


The Way Back Home

by Jules_Ink



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Olicity!AU, Romance & Action, Survival of the awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 43,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules_Ink/pseuds/Jules_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver Queen had really believed to have left that phase of his life behind. Waking up somewhere in the wilderness with dangerous people chasing him really is so 2007. But this time he isn’t alone; Felicity Smoak is with him. And while he fights to keep her safe, he also struggles with the unresolved feelings that are lingering between them. (Set after season two)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The only way to go is down

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it’s me again. I know some of you were hoping for a Soundtrack-sequel, but I’m really in the mood for something new. This story is different from the last one, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway. It’s set after season two, before the beginning of season three. Please note that later chapters will have explicit content. Consider yourself warned. 
> 
> I also want to thank two wonderful girls for the time and effort they invested to help me get this story started. **Wordscreatereality** , whose writing is impeccable, and **Vickstik** both were kind enough to give me their input and pointed out some stupid mistakes I made in the beginning. Their help really improved this and I am thankful. They are amazing.
> 
> Okay, enough said. Let’s get this started. As always: Reviews are love and I would love to know what you think about this!
> 
>  
> 
> _I do not own the Arrow. No copyright infringement intended._

The first thing he noticed was the smell. The combination of wet wood and saturated earth was so familiar to him that it triggered reflexes he hadn't used in two years. One moment he had been laying on the cold, hard and wet ground – the worst possible combination to wake up on –, the next he was standing with his body readied for a fight. He was breathing heavily as he stood there with his knees bent, his fists raised, and his eyes scanning his surroundings. What he saw caused panic to rise inside him, but he fought to push it down. What he saw – even though he wished he could believe that his eyes were playing tricks on him – told him clearly that he needed to keep a clear head.  
  
Regretfully, waking up somewhere he really wished he wouldn't be wasn't a new experience to Oliver Queen. But it had been some time since it had happened. He had really believed to have left that phase of his life behind.  
  
Trying to steady his breathing he let his eyes travel over the trees that surrounded him. Their thin, tall stems reached high up and ended in bushy crowns that barely let any light hit the leaf covered ground where Oliver stood – and where a blond young woman lay next to him, unmoving and with her eyes closed. Even though he hadn't looked at her directly yet, he was very aware of the fact that she was there, he always was aware of her presence. He took another second to make sure nobody else was around, hiding somewhere, waiting for a good moment to attack. Only when he was sure they were alone did he sink to his knees next to Felicity Smoak. Oliver's right hand was slightly shaking when he brought it up to her neck to check for her pulse. Relief flooded him when he found it instantly. She was alive, just unconscious. His hand moved from her neck to her cheek. “Felicity.” He spoke softly. He was trying to rouse her gently as much as he was trying to keep quiet in case somebody was close by. His thumb brushed her cheek without him really noticing it. “Felicity,” he repeated and added, “wake up.” She really was a heavy sleeper, he realized. This was a luxury he had abandoned years ago. Even though, he knew this was hardly natural, healthy sleep. She must have been knocked out just like he had been. But he needed her to wake up, he needed them to get moving, staying in one place for too long was too dangerous. There was more urgency in his voice now. “Felicity, you need to wake up.” He could feel her stir, see her eyes move behind her closed eyelids. She needed one last push. “Felicity.”  
  
He had been right; this startled her into awareness. She awoke with a start, her eyes huge, staring at him. Then she blinked and asked, “Oliver?” Her voice was coated with sleep. In the next moment, he could practically see her brain warming up and getting ready for work as she realized that she was laying somewhere outside, on the hard ground with Oliver's hand on her cheek.  
  
He let go of her face as she heavily pushed herself into a sitting position. Instantly, she closed her eyes and brought her hand to her forehead. This worried him, he needed to check, “Are you okay?”  
  
She slowly opened her eyes again. “Just a little dizzy,” she answered, before she looked around. “Where are we?”  
  
“In a forest. We need to get moving, before whoever brought us here comes back.”  
  
But, of course, she wasn't moving. Instead, she had more questions. “Who brought us here? And where exactly is _here_?” Leaning her head back she looked at the trees reaching far up. Suddenly her head snapped back to him. “Are we on the island? Because this looks like it.”  
  
“This isn't Lian Yu.” Oliver's voice showed how absolutely sure he was about this.  
  
“But this looks a lot like it.”  
  
“Yes,” now he sounded very, very tense, “it does.” He got up again and held his hand out to her. “Come on. We need to get away from here.”  
  
Thankfully, she kept from asking another question and reached for his hand, letting him help her up. Oliver scanned his surroundings again. He really had no idea where they were, he had no idea which way to go from here, one direction was as good as the other.  
  
“My tablet.” Felicity's surprised voice ripped him out of his musings. He turned back to took at her and saw that she had bent down again to pick up the electronic device from the ground. She quickly checked it, before she looked up at him, “It's useless. This forest doesn't have wi-fi.”  
  
He honestly hadn't expected it to. That would have been too easy. He made a mental note to ask Felicity if she had the tablet with her, when she was... kidnapped. But that could wait. There was more than enough time to think later. Right now they needed to act. He motioned toward where he knew north was. “Come on, this way.” 

 

*******

 

It was only an educated guess, but he believed them to be walking for about two hours. They were still surrounded by trees, but they were getting fewer. The sky was by now visible between the trees and had grey spots that were steadily turning darker. This worried Oliver. The darkening sky wasn't a sign that the sun would set soon – which would be bad enough since he hadn't found a good place for them to safely spend the night. It was a harbinger of bad weather. Really bad weather. The dark clouds were a threatening black with a hint of angry green, which promised a thunderstorm that would most likely catch them surrounded by trees. He had been there and done that, and he really didn't need a repetition; it had been bad enough the first time.  
  
The weather was one of many issues he had added to the mental list he had been compiling since he woke. The potential dangers noted there were of a great variety; beginning with the people who had dropped them here, ending with traps, and with a lot of bad things in-between. Oliver had told Felicity to walk behind him and watch where she was going. He didn't want to witness her stepping onto another landmine. So, basically, he was looking out for everything: for unwanted company in human or animal form, for trip wires and landmines, for the best way to go, for a hideout, for the weather...  
  
“Do you think there are spiders on this island? I have this thing about spiders. And kangaroos. Do you think there could be kangaroos here?”  
  
He didn't glance around and sounded preoccupied when he answered, “I doubt it.”  
  
“When we find out who brought us here, I will have a long talk with them. Why would they make sure I have my tablet, but not my jacket? Or walking shoes? I love my red Mary Janes, I love them very much, but they are not made for a hike through the wilderness.”  
  
“Felicity...” Oliver spoke quietly, trying to remind her that they needed to be quiet and not draw any attention to themselves just yet. They needed to find safe shelter first, then water, food and craft some kind of weapons.  
  
But after roughly two hours of silence Felicity obviously had to get some things off her chest. “You're lucky you're in your Arrow-pants. Leather's a good material for being outdoors. I'm not even wearing tights. But... Wait! Did they get you at the Foundry? How did they do that? Were your Arrow-senses not tingling?”  
  
"Felicity...”  
  
“This is bad. Because this means the people who brought us here are really good. I mean _really_ good. The last thing I remember is leaving QC to get to Pilates. But we both know that I was probably pretty easy to grab. It's a little bit embarrassing but still true. But you? You have reflexes like a hawk... Does a hawk have good reflexes? Are you okay with being compared to a hawk? Or would you rather be a panther? Those are fast, I think. And black.”  
  
“Felicity...”  
  
“Maybe you'd prefer a green animal. But I can't think of one other than a frog. And we both know that you're not a frog. Seriously, there has to be another green animal!”  
  
“FELICITY!” He shot around to face her and regretted snapping at her like this in the next moment. Not only because he had yelled really loud, but also because of the very sight of her. She stood there shaking from the cold and most definitely nerves, clutching her tablet to her chest and looking ready to break down any moment now. Oliver knew what Felicity looked like when she was pulling herself together, and right now Felicity looked like she was clutching at the last bits of her fortitude.  
  
He had been in survival-mode as soon as he had woken up, he had analyzed the situation, had snapped into action instantly, going through the motions needed to keep them alive. But offering Felicity one word of comfort had never been a part of this. He was trying to keep her physically safe. His thoughts were focused on this. He hadn't thought to try to comfort her or allay her fears. Instead, he had left Felicity alone with her own thoughts, which just couldn't be good. She was shaking harder by now, and he realized how badly he had fucked up. She didn't just need his protection; she needed his assurance that they would be okay. “Hey...” He took two steps and then he was close enough to place his hand on her shoulder. “We'll get through this.” He saw her swallow heavily. She was trying to calm down again, to regain her composure. His fingers closed a little in a comforting squeeze. “We'll figure this out. But we need shelter first, somewhere to hide out. Finding a safe place is the most important thing right now, because a storm is coming. We'll take one step after the other, and this is the first. Okay?”  
  
She nodded. “Okay.” She took a deep breath, a little calmer now. “I'm so-”  
  
He stopped her right there, shutting her off with a quick gesture. He tipped his head to the side slightly, and closed his eyes. He was blocking all visual stimuli out, because he needed to concentrate on the sounds around him. He heard the wind between the trees, he believed a waterfall to be somewhere to his right, he heard animal noises and- His eyes snapped open, and in the next moment he pushed Felicity to the ground. He landed on top of her, covering her body with his own as a loud bang cracked through the air. It was followed by a cracking and wood chips spraying as a bullet ripped a hole into the nearest tree. He looked down at her and found her staring up at him with huge eyes. “We get up and we run.” There was no time for complicated sentences, this was the time to be functional. Thank God, Felicity knew this tone in his voice, she knew that it was business. She barely took the time to nod. Instead, she followed his example and got up from the floor. She placed her own in his offered hand and then she let him lead the way.  
  
They weren't as fast as he would have liked. High heels really weren't the best footwear for a chase. He pulled her along and she managed to keep up. “Keep your head down,” he ordered as a bullet missed his own one by the tiniest margin. He felt it speed by his ear and changed directions in the next moment. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, his grip on her hand was tight and ever tightening, as they ran between trees. He felt Felicity stumble behind him, but he wouldn't let her fall. He reached for her, made her stay up and keep up with him, while she was breathing hard.  
  
Another gunshot ripped through the air, spurring them to go even faster. It was followed by somebody shouting after them. A male voice came from behind them. “Lauft ruhig. Es macht mehr Spaß, wenn ihr rennt.”  
  
Oliver had no idea what that meant, but it didn't sound nice. Those weren't nice words. He knew that. His mouth tightened as he looked around, looked for a place to go. But instead the black sky chose this moment to open up. Rain was hitting his face hard and heavily as he ran. After all, when it rains, it pours.  
  
He had no idea where they were going, but he could hear their pursuers catching up. They were coming closer, approaching from different sides, circling them, locking them in, cutting off their escape routes, and he didn't know what to do. All he could do was go ahead, keep running. He didn't know how many were following them, but he feared that there were too many for him to take on alone without leaving Felicity defenseless.  
  
Suddenly, he heard her gasp beside him. He had seen it, too, and it was a reaction that made sense. He stopped instantly, and in the next moment they both stood there, side by side in the pouring rain, on the edge of a cliff. There was nowhere to go but down.  
  
Felicity breath was hard and heavy, she was gasping for air. He was winded himself as he now turned around toward the direction where he knew their chasers were coming from. He stood tall, his gaze hard as he let it sweep over the trees where six people were now emerging. He wanted a good look at them, at their weapons, at their tactics. He also saw an evil smirk on the face of the seventh man, who was now stepping from behind a tree. He was tall, rugged and bald. The crooked nose in his pockmarked face told of many fights. His eyes were light blue, piercing – and fixating on Felicity. “Keine Sorge, meine Kleine,” the man said now, the grin turning deeper. “Dich brauchen wir noch. Aber Dein Freund ist uns im Weg.” Oliver didn't like this at all, and by the way Felicity's breath was catching in her throat neither did she. “Räumt ihn weg.”  
  
This sounded like an order. Oliver didn't feel like finding out what that meant. Instead, he pulled Felicity to his body and jumped, taking the only escape route that was left. Bullets were flying over their heads as gravity grabbed them and didn't let go.


	2. Very different circumstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really excited that you seemed to like the first chapter! Thank you so much for the positive feedback, for the kudos and an especially BIG THANK YOU to everybody who took the time to comment. That means so very much to me. You guys rock. I hope you'll like this second chapter just as much. I'd love to know what you think. Much love, Jules

 

**2\. Very different circumstances**

The ice cold water felt like needles piercing into his skin as it closed over him. He sank toward the ground for a moment, before Felicity moving in his arms caused him to stir into action. The water was dark, but the flashing lights told him which way was up. It also gave him the opportunity to see where the cliff they had just jumped down from was. That was the way to go, he decided and pulled Felicity with him. Thankfully, she seemed to be a good swimmer. With only a few strokes they reached the rocky barrier and broke the water surface, both gasping for air. Oliver instantly glanced up and relief rushed through him. It was as he had hoped; the cliff was protruding above them, shielding them from view. Their pursuers couldn't see them, and he didn't have to worry about them hearing Felicity and him. The storm that was roaring now – a torrential downpour with rain pouring down, lightning cracking in the sky and thunder rumbling – drowned out all other noises.  
  
He looked at Felicity who was treading water next to him. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I nearly lost my glasses. And I guess my tablet is useless now.” He would just take that as a 'yes'. Her eyes were full of confusion as they met his. “What the hell is going on here?”  
  
If only he knew. He wished he had an answer to this, but he just didn't. The annoyance he felt must be visible on his face, because she just nodded in understanding to everything he wasn't vocally saying. Her voice was strangely calm when she said, “We need to get out of the water.”  
  
She was absolutely right. They both let their eyes wander over the lake they had landed in after falling about thirty meters. Rocky walls were towering above them in nearly a full circle. The waterfall he had faintly heard earlier when he had listened for people nearing them was crashing down directly opposite from them. There was only one way to go and it was close to their right.  
  
“Is going there too obvious?” Felicity asked, and Oliver couldn't help but be impressed with her rational thinking when about five minutes ago she had given it her all to fight down a panic-attack. He shouldn't be so surprised at this, he should know how good she was under extreme pressure, but he was really glad that she was keeping it together so well under these circumstances.  
  
“It is,” he answered now, “but we have no choice.” They needed to get out of the water or they would freeze. “Stay close to the sides,” he instructed and started to swim toward the only bank in reach. Two minutes later they stepped out of the water and onto the muddy ground, climbing over a huge fallen tree that lay directly next to the water and separated them from dry land. Oliver dared to turn around and look up, but he saw nobody on the cliff. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe, the men were already on their way here. An especially bright bolt lit up the sky in this moment; it was followed by especially loud thunder instantaneously. He hated this. It had been years since he had felt this helpless and this vulnerable.  
  
He pushed that thought away, buried it deep down. He couldn't dwell on this now, because nothing good would come from it. The best thing was to keep moving. “This way,” he decided, not knowing if the choice was right. Not wanting to just march ahead like he had done previously, he reached for Felicity's hand. It felt way too cold in his own. He looked at her and saw her drenched clothes clinging to her body. Her short-sleeved blouse and her short skirt stuck to her and did nothing to hide her skin from the icy wind that brought cold rain with it. He wished he could offer her something to keep her warm, to shield her from the worst nature was throwing at them, but the t-shirt he wore was equally drenched as her clothes. There was only one thing they should do now, “We need to find shelter.”  
  
“I remember,” Felicity said as they started walking toward another group of trees. “That's the first thing on our list. We should really get to crossing that off.”  
  
Yes, they should. His own steps were heavier now as the cold seemed to be seeping further into his bones more and more with each one he took. He knew they were leaving a trail behind. The forest floor was muddy, their foot prints were easy to follow. Especially Felicity's. The high heels of her pumps poked deep into the water-logged ground, she sank in deep with each step and she had to pull her feet up with a slight squishing sound every time. Walking like this was strength consuming, he knew. And it was seriously slowing them down. The part of Oliver that was calculating the situation, weighing the things that worked to their advantage (there were few) and to their disadvantage (a huge, _huge_ number) listed Felicity's footwear very far up on the disadvantages list.  
  
One disadvantage of it was stressed a few steps later, when Felicity nearly fell when her shoe got stuck in the mud. He reached for her arm, steadied her and kept her from hitting the ground. An unhappy groan left Felicity's lips and she hesitated, but then she reached for her pumps, slipping them off. That was a bad idea; walking barefoot in a forest, was a very, very bad idea! “You cannot walk without shoes,” Oliver objected.  
  
“I cannot walk with these shoes,” Felicity countered, before she quickly added, “I mean, I _can_ walk in these shoes. Generally. Just not here, in this damn forest!”  
  
Oliver looked at her for a moment, before he brought his right foot up. He was wearing his very comfortable and very warm Arrow-shoes, but he had spent many months running around an island with bare feet. “You can have-”, he started.  
  
“No,” she cut him off, knowing what he was about to offer her. She let just kept walking. “I don't want your shoes; they are too big for me anyway.”  
  
“Felicity,” he started again, his voice full of warning.  
  
But she wouldn't have it. “Come on! We need to find shelter.” She was still walking, moving quicker now that her shoes were in her hand and no longer on her feet. He watched her walk away from him for a moment, before he followed her. For the one and a half hours they marched ahead. To mask their steps they even walked through a tiny stream. The water was ice cold, Oliver could feel it even through his soaked boots as he carried Felicity on his back. He had needed to use his aggressive voice to get her to agree to being carried. But he hadn't bulged on that: He wouldn't have her walk through icy water without shoes on. She was already far too cold anyway. As his hands held on to her bare legs as he carried her on his back he had noticed how frozen she was. But as soon as they left the stream, she squirmed until he set her down again. He needed his strength, she argued, and that he shouldn't waste it on her.  
  
He had no idea what she was saying here. No effort to keep her safe would ever be a waste.  
  
But Oliver was proud of how she was soldiering on. She didn't complain, but kept moving ahead, even though Oliver knew that the whole situation was taking its toll on her. Another hour later Felicity was shivering badly, her teeth were actually shattering. Her steps were really heavy, and her failing to really lift her feet caused her to stumble over a root. This time Oliver couldn't catch her in time; she fell to the ground. He instantly kneeled down next to her, worry clouding his face. But she didn't meet his eyes, instead she looked ahead and asked, “What's that there?”  
  
 _That there_ was the perfect hideout.  
  
Behind a bush she had found a small gap in a rock face that was hard to make out. Behind it lay a small cave that would protect them from the wind and rain which – even though the thunder and lightning had stopped – were still not dying down. Once inside Felicity carelessly let the shoes she had carried this entire time drop. It was as if all the strength she had mustered left her; she sank onto the ground, her back against the rock wall. Oliver didn't join her; instead, he took a moment to create a not too obvious trail leading away from their hiding place. Only when he was satisfied with his attempt at deflection did he reenter the cave. Felicity hadn't moved. Her eyes were heavy lidded as she sat there, not acknowledging him in any way. He sank down next to her and found that she was still shivering and about to fall asleep. He wished he could light a fire to create some warmth, but there was nothing but wet wood around. He needed to warm her up in order to fight the clear signs of hypothermia she was showing. He pushed himself up to his feet again and pulled her with him.  
  
A diffuse twilight was surrounding them. The small crack that was the entrance didn't let much light in – and with the dark clouds blocking the sun there wasn't much light left to let in to begin with. Felicity was only a little more than a silhouette to him, which was why his hands fumbled as he searched for the collar of her blouse and felt down for the first button. He found it and opened it quickly.  
  
The sudden movement brought Felicity back to her senses. She sounded honestly perplexed as she asked, “What are you doing?”  
  
He was working on button number four and was absolutely sure that could only be a rhetorical question. Still, he chose to answer it. “You need to get out of these wet clothes. Your body's losing heat,” he explained as he opened the last button. “We need to warm you up.”  
  
“Seriously? That seems like a very cliché thing to do.”  
  
“Felicity, your wet clothes lower your core temperature faster. It may be a cliché, but it's true.”  
  
Felicity didn't move. She just stood there, her arms hanging by her sides. “I just imagined you undressing me under different circumstances.” He didn't dare to react to that, because – God help him – so had he. Many times. And not once had a threat of hypothermia been involved. Her teeth had always done very different things than chattering. She obviously misinterpreted his silence, because she hurried to add, “very platonic circumstances.”  
  
He knew Felicity well enough to know that awkwardness spurred her into moving in the next moment. She brought her hands up and moved to take her blouse off. He reached for his own t-shirt and pulled it over his head. They worked quietly and methodically. Oliver was really thankful for the twilight turning into darkness around him, because, really, this wasn't any of the versions he had dreamt up about getting as good as naked with her.  
  
The darkness was like a shield protecting them from each other’s eyes. Never before had Oliver felt awkward in the presence of a nearly naked woman. Never before had Oliver felt awkward being nearly naked in the presence of a woman. Right now he did; but he refused to let this get to him. Now was not the time to allow nervousness to make him shy away from what needed to be done. He stepped toward Felicity once they had undressed. Normally, he would just send her a questioning glance, but it was too dark for silent communication. “Felicity?” he asked, and in the next moment she proved that they could read each other even without direct eye contact. She didn't answer vocally, but simply took a step toward him. He brought his arms up and pulled her to his body.  
  
Her skin felt so unbelievably soft – and so very cold. He closed his arms around her, his hands moved over her back. It wasn't sexual exploration, it was an attempt to get her warm, to share his body heat with her. He really wished they had a blanket, but they had nothing but their wet clothes at their feet. Just as this thought crossed his mind he felt a warm wetness against his chest and realized that she was crying. In an effort to comfort her, he held on to her tighter. His hand was still rubbing her back and he rested his cheek against her head. He knew how she felt perfectly: exhausted and helpless and afraid and frustrated. He felt the same. This was like a flashback bringing him back seven years, back to his first weeks on Lian Yu when he had had nothing, when he had known nothing, when he had been nothing but overstrained.  
  
But he hadn't cried then, he wouldn't cry now.  
  
Still, his heart broke for her. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault that they were here. “Hey,” he whispered as his hand continued the comforting circles on her back. “We're safe for now.”  
  
“I'm so sorry.” Her voice was coated, heavy with her tears. “I know I'm only a hindrance and I'm slowing you down. I-”  
  
“Felicity,” he stopped her right there. “You're doing great. Don't worry.”  
  
“I feel so useless,” she admitted now. “I'm an IT-expert stranded somewhere without electricity. Talk about worst-case scenario.”  
  
“That's your personal worst-case scenario?”  
  
She hesitated a moment before she said, “I have to admit the men with guns chasing us are making it even worse.” Another moment of silence followed, before she added, “but your method to stay warm is rather nice.” He smiled against the darkness. She was trying to lighten the mood, he knew. The fact that she had the strength to do this after all she, they, had been through today and while she was still shivering in his arms, was another proof of her inner strength; an inner strength she obviously wasn't aware of herself.  
  
“Nothing like the start of hypothermia to make a move on a girl,” he answered, because he, too, felt the need to take the heaviness out of the situation.  
  
They stood there silently in the darkness, feeling the other one close. It wasn't unusual for Oliver and Felicity to share a silent understanding, to be comfortable without saying anything. But the sudden intimacy that surrounded them was a new experience to Oliver – one he thoroughly enjoyed.  
  
He let himself do that – enjoy it thoroughly for a moment – before the weight of the situation hit him again full force. He sobered up instantly. “I'll get you back home,” he promised her as much as he promised himself. “We'll get through this. Starting tomorrow we'll figure out what's going on here.”


	3. The pros and cons of paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I will be honest with you: I really hadn't planned on updating this soon, but all the amazing comments you sent my way changed my mind. This is the only way I know how to show you how much your kind words and support mean to me. You are all awesome. THANK YOU!
> 
> And I know some people will be annoyed, but I decided against adding translations - again. I just feel like this is told from Oliver's point of view. We are in his head and he just doesn't understand what's said...

**3\. The pros and cons of paranoia**

 

Where was a nice thunderstorm when you needed it? Right now, Oliver could have used some pouring rain, some thunder, some lightning bolts. It would have added some cover, it would have distracted the guards, which were strategically placed throughout the camp, it would have drowned out some noises. Instead, the sun was choosing this moment to peak through the thinning light grey clouds. That was typically his luck. He had taken position behind a huge rock, but there were still a good twenty meters separating him from the first tent. These guys may not be the best shooters, but they could think strategically. The camp was placed in the middle of the beach with plenty of space between the sea and the forest that began almost immediately where the sand ended. This position made them very visible, but it also limited the chances of somebody sneaking up on them without being seen. There were about ten army green tents placed in a circle. An army camouflage net was spread out over the middle and created a shaded square in the middle. It reminded him so much of Fyers' camp while at the same time it was nothing like it.  
  
This, actually, summed up this whole experience so far perfectly: It was uncomfortably familiar but still distinguishably different.  
  
Different, because he was not the same man he had been when he had been faced with Edward Fyers and his goons. The Oliver who had just landed on Lian Yu would have never looked at this camp the way Oliver, the Arrow, did. His younger self didn't have the experience or the knowledge he had now, he didn't have the abilities he had gained in the past seven years. And most importantly, he didn't have anyone depending on him. Back then he had been the dependant one. A forty minute jog away, Felicity was waiting for him in a cave, cold, hungry and probably frightened, and she needed him to make this right, to make the best of this opportunity in front of him.  
  
She had wanted to scout the area with him, but he had put his foot down since her's were still bare. He wouldn't have her running around with naked feet – or high heels for that matter. Her inappropriate footwear had been the perfect excuse to ask her to say in the cave, where she was hidden and safe.  
  
Before he had left to scout the area, she made him promise not to take any unnecessary risks. This just proved how well she knew him, and he had promised her, because he knew her just as well and he knew she needed the reassurance.  
  
It was that promise that made him lay motionless for ten minutes to observe what was happening at the camp. By now he had a very good idea about which tents were empty and which guards were not at alert as others. He was limiting the risk of getting caught, because Oliver knew that it was risky to sneak into the camp. Oliver also knew that entering the camp was the only way to get some answers.  
  
Technically, he wasn't breaking his promise to Felicity, because this wasn't an unnecessary risk. It was a very necessary one.  
  
He saw the guard on the left light his third cigarette in ten minutes and knew he would next take another swig from the silver flask he kept in the pocket of his black cargo pants. It was now or never. Oliver kept his head and his body low as he hurried toward the camp while making sure to limit his visibility as much as possible. He reached the tent closest to his previous hiding-place and crouched behind it. He listened closely. He heard no sign that he had been discovered or that somebody was in the tent. He wished he had a knife to cut the back of the tent open, but he didn't have anything on him that was even remotely sharp enough to cut the thick plastic, which meant he had to sneak around it. He was moving silently, listening closely and in the next moment he was peaking around the tent toward the center of the circle created by the surrounding tents.  
  
The sun, which was shining stronger now, and the camouflaging net created unruly shadows on the ground. A camp stove was placed in the middle of the circle and was ringed by three men who were sitting and eating out of metallic pots. One of them was sitting so that he was facing the tent Oliver wanted to explore, but he wasn't watching his surroundings. Like the others he was focused on his food and his conversation.  
  
“Mann, das ist eine totale Scheiße,” he was saying now. “Bäcker und ich haben die ganze Nacht nach Spuren von der Blonden und ihrem Macker gesucht. Komplette Zeitverschwendung bei dem Unwetter!”  
  
“Sei doch froh,” another spoke up. “Wir mussten nach den verfluchten Leichen tauchen. Wer weiß, ob die den Sprung von der Klippe überlebt haben.”  
  
“Wenn die Kleine tot ist, haben wir ein Probem.”  
  
“Das haben wir verdammt noch mal jetzt schon. Diese gesamte Mission ist für'n Arsch!”  
  
Oliver was pretty sure that these men were talking German. He wished he could understand what they said, make out the words and maybe get some answers, but all this language was to him was a sequence of hard sounds that sounded so very angry. Instead of listening to sounds that made no sense to him, he used that moment to slip into the tent. He had been right; it was empty. The conversation outside was continuing, which showed Oliver that he hadn't been seen. The tent was as good as empty: a cot, a blanket, a big backpack. Oliver grabbed the latter, opened it and was pleased. Inside  was just what he had hoped for. He grabbed the blanket also and glanced back outside. Nothing had changed there. The temptation to search another tent was huge. These men probably knew the area better than him, finding a map would really help him. But Oliver knew that in their current situation the backpack was already like pure gold. It was too good to be true that he had found so many helpful things already packed and ready to be taken. Trying to explore further would be stupid, an unnecessary risk that might get him caught or killed. And he had made a promise. It was time to get out of here. Less than one minute after he had entered the tent he was leaving it again, holding on to the backpack. The men were still deep in conversation.  
  
“Wer weiß, ob wir hier überhaupt richtig sind.”  
  
“Wenn Fleischer sagt, die Anlage ist hier, dann ist sie hier.”  
  
“Mitten im Dschungel? Das ist doch bescheuert!”  
  
“Oder gerade genial. Wer erwartet so was schon mitten im Nichts?”  
  
“Du und dein blindes Vertrauen gehen mir total auf die Eier, echt...”  
  
Without making a sound Oliver disappeared behind the tent again. There he crouched down and listened. Nobody seemed to be coming for him. He put the backpack on and then he hurried, his knees bent, his head low, back toward his previous rocky hiding-place. Part of him was expecting an alerting call followed by bullets flying toward him, and he was prepared to switch to a full sprint, but neither the shout nor gunfire came. Not even when he had left the clearing around the camp did he relax. He couldn't believe that this had worked so easily. Maybe, he had given these guys too much credit. Or they had seen him and were following him now, trying to locate his and Felicity's hiding-place.  
  
It was a familiar paranoia he hadn't experienced in years. It was the difference between living and dying, Oliver knew, and he knew that he couldn't ignore his bad feeling. It took him another hour to come to terms with the fact that it really _had_ been so easy. He had taken every detour he had dared – because the last thing he needed now was to get lost in the woods – and had stopped and waited for possible pursuers multiple times. At one point he had even climbed up a tree, to get a better look around, but there had been nothing to see but more trees. He couldn't really believe it, but he just had to. Now he was kind of mad at himself for not snooping around the camp more.  
  
As he neared their hideout he couldn't help but think how lucky they were that Felicity had quite literally stumbled across it. Even in bright daylight, which was really bright with the sun shining from a cloudless sky now, it was not easy to make out. They could stay here for some time, scout the area and return here for the night – which meant that he would scout the area while Felicity was well hidden from searching eyes.  
  
That thought fled from his mind in the next moment as he entered the cave and saw... nothing. Nothing but naked rock. She wasn't there. Had the men found her while he was making sure he wasn't followed? He felt his blood rush to his feet with the fear that suddenly hit him and brought along worst-case scenarios along that went far beyond being stranded somewhere without electricity. “Felicity...” he whispered into the darkness.  
  
“Thank God, it's you.” Felicity stepped out of a small alcove that Oliver hadn't seen before. It was way back in the cave, hidden by shadows.  
  
The instant fear was replaced by instant relief. “Good hideout,” Oliver complimented to hide his previous dismay.  
  
“I heard somebody come and...” She crossed the distance between them. “You trained me well.” He was about to smile, when she added, “in hiding...”  
  
He sighed, because he knew where she was going with this. She had asked him many times to teach her how to fight. “Just some basics,” she had said. He had always refused. John Diggle had showed her some basic self-defense techniques, but that was it. Oliver had made sure of that, because he didn't want Felicity fighting. He wanted her as far away from fights as possible – in Starling City and in this goddamn forest!  
  
Not being in the mood for this discussion again, he decided to ignore her hint. “Why are you wearing those wet clothes again?”  
  
She stared at him. “Because we may have been left in the stone age, but being naked in a cave is not really my thing. Not even Wilma Flintstone sunk that low.” She was in a bad mood. He could understand it, but he didn't need that right now. “Plus, I didn't want to be caught with my pants down – literally.”  
  
He forced himself not to react to her attitude, because if he did, he would let his own bad mood out on her. They had been there under better circumstances than the ones they were in now, and their arguments were never pretty. Neither of them had eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours, neither had been able to sleep last night, neither liked the situation they were in, neither would back down from a battle of words. Oliver's face hardened, his lips tightened, but he just moved to take the backpack off. He dropped it to the floor, “here, dry clothes.”  
  
That had the effect Oliver had hoped for, the annoyance left her features. “Where did you get that?” She couched down next to it and opened it.  
  
“I found the camp of the guys chasing us.”  
  
She stopped her inspection of the contents of the backpack and stared up at him. “You went there?” She got to her feet again. “You promised not to take any unnecessary risks.”  
  
“I never did.”  
  
Again, she stared at him for a few moments before she said, “Of course, you found a loophole. I should have made you promise to not take any risks, like none at all.”  
  
“But you didn't.”  
  
“I won't make that mistake again.”  
  
“I will never make a promise I can't keep.” Their eyes were locked together, neither looking away. It were the unspoken words Oliver could read in her eyes that told him she understood his need to do what he felt was necessary, no matter how risky.  
  
Her next words proved to him that she had also gotten his silent message that he knew she was just trying to look out for him, because her next words were a peace-offering. “So, what's our next move now that we found a hideout?”  
  
“Dry clothes.” He reached toward the backpack and pulled two pairs of socks out. “Here, these should help against cold feet.”  
  
She took them from him. “I think that's the best present, ever!” She frowned slightly. “Wow, I guess being confronted with nature really does make you appreciate the things you normally take for granted.” She sent him a small smile.  
  
Oliver knew it was a peace offering and he accepted it with a nod and a faint smile of his own. He couldn't vocally react to this, because her sentence spurred old memories in him. Memories of his time on Lian Yu, memories of the things he had learned to appreciate there, of all the things that had been stripped away from him. He cleared his throat and motioned to the backpack that was laying between them. “From what I saw when I quickly checked there're also two bottles of water in there, a lighter, a compass, a towel, a Snickers and a Milky Way... You should eat the Milky Way. I'll go hunting later, but it might be some time until we can eat something.”  
  
She frowned at him. “What about the Snickers?”  
  
A matching frown appeared on his face. “Aren't you allergic to nuts?”  
  
“I am.” She seemed surprised. “How do you know that?”  
  
“Felicity, you told me. I listen when you talk.” He ignored the smile that lit up her face right then and instead answered the question she had answered quite some time ago, “We'll lay low today, catch up on some sleep.”  
  
They looked at each other for another long moment, before Felicity bent down and pulled a huge sweatshirt from the backpack. She looked at him and nodded, “You're the one with the survival experience.”  
  
Indeed, he was.


	4. Old emotions, new thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I repeat myself, but I really mean it and I feel like saying it over and over again: I really appreciate all the positive feedback you're sending my way. I am excited that you seem to enjoy this story. :-) Thank you so so so much! The biggest hug to all the wonderful people who took the time to leave a comment!
> 
> Okay, so, I think we all need to take a deep breath and give Oliver and Felicity a moment to rest, before shit is getting real again. ;-)

 

**4\. Old emotions, new thoughts**

 

The cave may be perfect from a strategic point of view, but it was still a hole surrounded by rock, climate-wise. The sun, which was starting to set, had managed to heat the air outside up a little, but the slight warmth had never entered the cave. The rock was emanating cold which combined with a certain dampness, and both made you feel chilled to the bone. It was a good thing that Oliver had taken the blanket. Felicity was cocooned in it as she slept with her head placed on his legs. He could feel her warmth radiating to him, taking some of the chill.  
  
Compared to last night's tactic to share body heat their current position was very chaste, but Oliver actually preferred this to their semi-naked embrace from the night before. It was less awkward, and it strangely felt equally intimate. Before waking up here in this forest Oliver and Felicity had rarely touched, but that had changed quickly and drastically in the last few days. Feeling her close was comforting, her touch was calming. It was reassuring to know she was there, close by and well. He sat there with her head in his lap for about four hours; his legs had fallen asleep hours ago, but he didn't care. Feeling her this close to him was something he could really get used to permanently, he wished it could always be like this – minus the danger of being found and killed and minus the damp cave, of course. If they survived this, he should finally dare to tell her the truth _again_ and own up to everything he was feeling. He needed to do that, because he knew that after all this, he couldn't go back and limit touching to her shoulder.  
  
That was the moment Oliver realized that he was subconsciously playing with her hair, twirling it around his finger as he was thinking. He had lit a small fire, which was now only smoldering after four hours of being unattended, but the gleam was enough to cast a soft light so that he could make out Felicity's features. She looked so relaxed, sleeping in his lap. She was beautiful. He had realized that before, of course, but right now as he dared to really look at her, take her in without the fear of being caught staring, her beauty really hit him. Because she looked even better there in his lap, close to him, like she belonged there, with him.  
  
Thoughts like these were new. For more than a year Oliver had fought to suppress all feelings that caused him to think like this. But then Slade Wilson had terrorized his city, and he had risked to unlock the place where he had stored all of those emotions, all the longing and wishing. It hadn't been exactly thought through. It had been a mistake. He had believed he would be able to just open up the tiniest bit and then close back up.  
  
He had been wrong.  
  
He hadn't lasted one minute before telling her that he loved her.  
  
And he did. And he knew that she knew that he did. And he knew that she loved him, too. But all this knowledge didn't help them at all, because he was convinced that he couldn't have a normal relationship with a normal girl.  
  
The fact that they had been kidnapped and dumped only God knew where so guys with guns could chase them was more proof than he had ever needed.  
  
Still, he was sitting here, thinking about telling her again and living up to it. After all, even when they weren't together she was in danger because of him.  
  
That was literally the truth. They hadn't been together when they had been grabbed. Oliver had been at the Foundry, changing, when he had felt a stinging pain in his neck. Somebody must have drugged him. Felicity had told him that she had been on her way to her Pilates class. So, whoever had brought them to this place wanted them here, together. Whoever had brought them to this place without electricity wanted Felicity to have her tablet. Oliver had spent the last hours trying to think of an explanation for this, but it just made absolutely no sense.  
  
Suddenly, Felicity moved in his lap. She had been laying on her side and now turned onto her back. She blinked up at him in the next moment. He tried a small smile. “Hey,” he whispered.  
  
“Hey,” she answered, her voice thick with sleep, and rubbed her eyes. Her glasses were safely stored in the backpack together with the useless tablet. She took another moment before she pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Your turn. I'll watch.”  
  
He ignored her offer and instead got up to get the blood circulating in his legs. He moved around the cave in a circle, before he crouched down next to the fire. They had to keep it small, but if they did, neither the light would give away their position nor would they suffocate from the smoke.  
  
“What are you thinking?”  
  
Felicity's question surprised him. He looked at her from his position by the fire. “I'm trying to make sense of what's happening.” It was true and adequately vague. He wasn't ready yet to talk about all the things he was trying to make sense of regarding her. “But it just makes no sense. Somebody brought us here. And it can't be the guys with the guns, because they would have never left us unattended.” _Unless they are hunting us for sport_ , he thought, but didn’t dare to actually say it out loud to not unnecessarily alarm her.  
  
Felicity looked at him. Sleep was still visible in her features, she looked exhausted and just so very tired, but then a certain hint of understanding showed up in her face. “You want to go back to the camp tomorrow to find out more.” It was a statement, not a question. She knew him, so she just knew. “Do you think that's smart? The guy whose backpack and blanket you took must miss it by now. If he doesn't believe one of his friends to be a thief, they must have realized that the fall off the cliff didn't kill us.”  
  
“They will never expect me to be stupid enough to go there a second time.”  
  
“But you want to prove to them you really are _that_ stupid.”  
  
“We need a map, some kind of hint where we are and who they are, who brought us here, why we are here. I'm sure they have some kind of communication device, maybe a satellite phone. Apparently we're too far away from Starling City for the tracker in my shoe to be working, so we need to find another way to contact Diggle. That camp is the best way to get us out of here.” He looked at her with determination on his face. “Don't ask me not to do it, because I can't follow your request.”  
  
She sank back against the rock and sighed. “What about me? You expect me to just wait here?”  
  
“Felicity-”  
  
“Fine,” she stopped him right there, sounding annoyed. “Do what you have to, I cannot stop you anyway. But you really have to sleep, you need to be rested when you try to sneak up on guys with guns.”  
  
“Felicity-”  
  
She cut him off again. “Oliver, let's not talk about it anymore. Let's not do this right now.”  
  
“Felicity-”  
  
“What's your favorite music?”  
  
“Fe-” he frowned as he really registered what she had just asked him. “What?”  
  
“I just realized that I don't know. That's like a basic thing to know, isn't it? That kinda proves how weird our friendship is.”  
  
“I don't have much time to listen to music.” He got up and moved back toward her. “I never cared much about it. Before the island I just listened to whatever the DJ played.” He sank down next to her, wordlessly signaling her that he was willing to accept her try to distract herself. “Same with movies. I just let the girls pick them. I think I saw every rom-com made from 2000 to 2006.”  
  
“Did you really see them? Or did you make out with your date in the back of the theatre?”  
  
He smirked. “That was the only way to deal with those movies.”  
  
“So, you're telling me that you haven't seen a movie since you came back?”  
  
“I haven't. I failed to catch up on those things. In my world Justin Timberlake is still bringing the sexy back, and it's okay to like Chris Brown.”  
  
“Oh, the sweet oblivion of the year 2006,” she actually smiled at him, “but I see you heard of the decent of Chris Brown.”  
  
“I did. I also heard of Twilight. Justin Bieber. The death of Michael Jackson. The ending of Lost. I could have gone my whole life without knowing any of these things.”  
  
“When we're back in Starling, we'll go see a movie together.”  
  
He really appreciated her sounding so sure they'd get back home. And he liked the idea of going to the movies together. He smiled and chose his next words deliberately. “You've got yourself a date.”  
  
What happened next, Oliver had anticipated it; Felicity instantly sat up a little straighter. “I didn't mean it like a _date_ date. Just like two friends going-”  
  
Now it was him cutting her off. “Felicity. I mean it like a _date_ date. If you're interested, I am too.”  
  
She stared at him for a moment, before a smile spread over her face. It was one of those smiles that Oliver loved so much, the kind that really lit up her face. It was this smile that confirmed both her interest and that her next words were meant as light teasing, “Now I'll be really pissed, if you go and get yourself killed tomorrow.”


	5. It's kill or be killed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. The last chapter was more an interlude to show where Oliver’s thoughts are at in this point of the story. I must say that I wasn’t too happy with chapter four and I don’t blame you if you weren’t either. I try to make up for it by a very speedy update. I also feel like we all need a little something to make up for the absence of Felicity from _Arrow_ ’s 5oth episode. And – yes! – I know that’s complaining for the privileged and that it’s not the Olicity-show and that last episode was really needed to get plot going, but… Come on, you know!
> 
> Now that I think about it I don’t know if this chapter is the best way to make up from the lack of Olicity, but this is what _I_ need to move the story forward. ;-) I still hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think. As always a big shout out and thank you and all my love to the people who sent me a comment for chapter four. Thank you for your unwavering support!

 

**5\. It's kill or be killed**

  
It was the strongest reaction to the lightest touch. Felicity's fingertips had barely brushed his cheek before he was sitting upright with his eyes wide and his fists clenched. He was ready for a fight, but there was nobody to attack. Instead he was face to face with Felicity. In the cold light that entered through the small entrance of this cave and cut through the darkness that engulfed them, he saw that she had brought her index finger to her lips. It was the universal gesture that signaled for him to be quiet. Next she motioned toward the slit in the rock that led outside. He heard it instantly. There was somebody out there, nearing their hideout in the middle of the night.  
  
He nodded understanding and pushed the blanket off. Before he had fallen asleep, he had refused to take it, had insisted that Felicity kept the blanket. He needed to have a talk with her about following his orders. Thank God, she trusted his judgment when it came to situations like the one they were in now. She moved instantly while he motioned for her to get behind him as he positioned himself next to the cave's entrance. He felt her body close behind his and put his whole focus on listening to the footsteps that were clearly coming toward them. They were heavy and calculated steps. Definitely male. Definitely only one person. Oliver tightened his muscles, getting ready for a fight. He only had a minute to decide, if it was better to engage him outside or to wait and see if, maybe, he didn't find them and walked right past their hiding-place. Oliver felt Felicity move even closer to him and place her hand on his shoulder. This simple gesture helped him make that decision. It was better to keep everybody as far away from her as possible.  
  
His steps were quick and quiet as he moved out of the cave – and in the next moment he knew that he had made the right decision. His sudden appearance caught the man, who had been coming toward the slit in the rock, by surprise. Oliver used it to his advantage and quickly took the man out. His movements were well-practiced and efficient. First his palm slammed into his opponent's throat to keep him from calling for help. While the skinny man with the long blond hair and the bad tattoos on his knuckles gasped for air, Oliver brought his fist to the man's jaw and his knee into his stomach. As his opponent doubled over, Oliver brought his hand down onto the back of his head guiding it to his still lifted knee. The moment it happened Oliver knew that this was it, the end of the fight. It hadn't been planned, but the force of his knee had been enough to drive the nasal bone into this man's brain. His assailant sank to the ground, unmoving, dead.  
  
Oliver stared down at the body at his feet. The moon was full and bright and illuminating the scene perfectly, revealing every detail of this man, the first person he had killed with his bare hands in quite some time. It was a horrible view, and it distracted him for a moment.  
  
It was just enough for a second attacker to catch Oliver by surprise. He stumbled backward as a fist connected with his lip. Anger filled Oliver. He was angry with this man for hitting him, angry with himself for missing his approach. Oliver had been certain that there was only one man out here. Clearly, he was losing his touch. A warmth was spreading from his lips which told Oliver from experience that it was bleeding. The taste of blood from his split lip angered him even more. Oliver caught himself and turned to face his opponent. The man was greeting him with a smile, revealing that he was lacking a front tooth. His eyes were shining with a sadistic enjoyment as he lifted his right hand and with a quick flick of his wrist let the blade of a knife click into place.  “Come and get me,” he said with a thick, German accent.  
  
Oliver had been in his share of knife fights – even though, admittedly, none of them had happened two minutes after he had woken up –, and he wasn't stupid enough to rush toward the blade. Instead, he moved to the left, his muscles tense, his eyes on the knife, his hands raised. The other man was moving too and they began to circle each other. The smile was still on the other man's face. It wasn't a pleasant view. Not only because it showed off his horrible dental hygiene, but also because there was no warmth in this smile. A predator would smile at a decidedly weaker victim like that.  
  
“You cannot escape us,” the other man said now with a confidence that did nothing but put Oliver at ease. This man thought he had already won this fight, because he had a knife, because he was bigger and brawnier than Oliver. But, honestly, cocky brutes were Oliver's favorite opponents. The ones who were too sure of themselves rarely gave it their all.  
  
The blade slashed toward Oliver's abdomen in the next moment, but he jumped back and reached for the man's hand, directing it away from him. At the same time Oliver brought his foot up and toward this man's chest. Now it was the other one stumbling backwards. Oliver wasn't stupid enough to make the mistake his assailant had made. He didn't give him time to catch himself, to adjust to his new position and his surroundings; he attacked again and moved around him while avoiding the blindly waved knife and succeeded in knocking it from his hand. He reached for the other man's head, closed both hands around it firmly and jerked them forcefully. A cracking sound ripped through the night. It was the audible proof that Oliver snapped this man's neck echoing through the woods.  
  
Oliver stood over the dead body of the knife-wielder, the other corpse only a few steps away, adrenaline rushing through his body, his breathing heavy, his body still ready to strike against anybody who would near him, blood dripping from his chin. He spat a mouthful of blood to the ground. It was a violent scene surrounded by peaceful silence and brightened by cold moonlight. His hand wasn't as steady as he would have liked as he wiped blood away with the back of his hand. Oliver needed a moment to collect himself.  
  
When he had, his eyes travelled to where he knew the entrance of the cave was and landed on Felicity. Oliver didn't even want to imagine what he must looked like to her. He had just killed two men with his bare hands. Felicity, who had been so put off by violence when she had first joined his list-driven task, would most certainly be appalled by witnessing him dealing out death. She had been the one to speak up for the people on the list, reminding him that even they had people who loved and needed them. He had stopped dropping bodies to honor Tommy and his best friend's memory, but Felicity had been the most supportive of his decision. When everybody else had told them he was limiting his possibilities, when he had believed himself to be fighting with one hand tied behind his back, she had been the only one to tell him that he was doing the right thing. She had been the only one to believe he could be the man he wanted to be.  
  
And now he was back to his old ways without hesitating. He was back to his old ways and he didn't regret it, because he had done what was necessary. He just didn't know if she agreed.  
  
He took another moment to make sure that there wasn't a third man ready to attack. When he was absolutely sure that there was no one else around, he turned to Felicity again. She was still standing in the entrance of the cave and he appreciated that she was waiting for him to give her the go. She always did that, she trusted his judgment when it came to battles and fighting. She had always done what he asked her to – and not done what he asked her not to do. Okay, there had been her getting caught by the Count and that whole Tockman-fiasco, she had acted recklessly both times, but she had never gone directly against his orders. Never would she suddenly pop up at a battle scene, catching him by surprise, turning into a distraction, a liability, a problem he needed to fix. Never would she go behind his back like that. If Felicity wasn't happy with one of his orders, she told him. She put her foot down from time to time, telling him that she would take a risk he didn't dare to put her into; he could work with that, because it was honest. She had always been honest with him.  
  
And now he had to be honest with her, had to show her a side of him she had never witnessed before. She had never seen him like this, like the unforgiving killer he had inside him. This wasn't like shooting an arrow that caused a victim to topple backwards and crash though a window of the 35 th floor. This was him using his hands to take a life, the same hands that had held her and caressed her face, that had played with her hair while she slept. This was a part of him she had to despise, but no matter how much he wished that it wasn't, it was part of him. There was no hiding it.  
  
They were still looking at each other. Felicity hadn't moved and stood about five meters away from him and the bodies he had dropped. Oliver was glad that she was keeping her distance, that she was looking at him and not at the corpses. Especially his first assailant wasn't a pretty sight. The blood which the nasal bone drilled into his brain had caused to shoot out of his nose and his twisted features looked gruesome.  
  
He realized that he was fixating Felicity with his eyes to keep her gaze on him and away from the two dead men. It worked, she was still looking at him, when she asked, her voice only a whisper, “What now?”  
  
This question caused him to give up his frozen posture. His brain started to really work for the first time since she had woken him up. Oliver didn't know if this was a good thing or not, but he had mostly acted on autopilot in the last few minutes. Fighting was a routine he had well-practiced. Dodging fists, knifes or bullets while landing hits or shots of his own were a second nature to him. He realized that he had just acted without really thinking about it. He shifted his weight as he contemplated her question for a moment and all the possible questions that came along with it. Was it safe to stay here? Was it better to get rid of the bodies or of this hideout? Could he leave the bodies exposed on the forest floor when he and Felicity abandoned the cave? Did he want the other men to know what he was capable of? Was there a way to keep his abilities hidden as long as possible?  
  
His gut told him the answer. “I'll drop them off somewhere else and set a false trail.” He bent down to the man whose neck he had snapped not one minute ago and started searching his pockets, but all this man had on him – other than the knife Oliver had already pocketed – was a gun which Oliver stuffed into the waistband of his pants. Then he moved to the second corpse and searched him, too. The first thing he found was a another gun. Silently Oliver thanked his lucky stars that he had taken this man out before he could draw his weapon and that the other one obviously believed his fighting skills to be better than they really were. He pocketed the second gun as well. Then he kept checking his cargo-outfit and fished a folded paper out of the chest pocket.  
  
“What's that?” Felicity asked from behind him.  
  
Oliver could't believe his luck, when he unfolded the paper. His disbelieve showed in his voice, “It's a map.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Really,” he assured her as he walked toward her to hand her the paper. Quickly she took it from him and studied it. Standing next to her he let his eyes move over the surrounding trees. But he didn't really see them as his thoughts were already on his next steps.  
  
Suddenly Felicity spoke up, “Oliver...” Her voice sounded strange, unusually coated. This tone in her voice caused him to look at her instantly. Slowly her eyes left the paper she had been looking at in the bright, white moonlight and settled on him. “Oliver,” she repeated. “We're... We're on an island.”  
  
Shock hit him. It was like a cold wave crashing through his body, causing all blood to rush to his feet and his heart to suddenly start hammering in his chest. He stared at her for a moment, needing time to collect himself; but even then all he could come up with was, “what?!”  
  
She turned toward him and reached for his arm. She didn't repeat her previous sentence, because he had heard her perfectly, and she knew. It was disbelieve that had caused his last question. He felt honest compassion from her as she said, “I'm sorry.”  
  
He ripped his eyes away from her. He couldn't do this now. He wouldn't do this now. If he let this really sink in, he would be useless. This thought caused him to snap into action. Motioning to the two bodies, he said, “I'll take them and search for a good place to get rid of them.” Taking a deep breath, he centered himself and got ready to dispose of the bodies, when another thought crossed his mind. He hesitated for a moment, he had sworn to himself that he'd never resort this, but he knew he had to. He held one gun out to Felicity. “Here, take this.”  
  
She just looked at him for a moment, before she shook her head. “No, I can't.”  
  
“I'll be gone for some time,” he explained his reasoning. “Take it just in case somebody else shows up while I'm gone.”  
  
“I can't,” she repeated.  
  
Oliver still held the gun out. “You were the one complaining that I never taught you anything but hiding.”  
  
Her face twisted at having her words pushed back into her face. “I ca-” She kept from telling him that she couldn't a third time. Instead, she reluctantly reached for the barrel of the gun and held it in the most awkward way possible. “Wow, that's heavier than I thought. Who would have thought that a gun has that much weight? Okay, that was a deeper comment than I intended. I never even held a gun, you know. Even though, one of my mom's boyfriends had a shooting range. But I never liked being there. The noise of guns being fired freaks me out. I don't think I ever appreciated the fact that your arrows are so quiet before.”  
  
“Felicity.” He cupped her left cheek with his hand. “You shooting this gun is our worst-case scenario. But I need you to have it with you, just in case. I'll be gone for some time.” He let go of her, now that his touch had calmed her down a little, and made her grip the gun correctly. “There on the trigger is a safety lock, like a triangle, can you feel it under your index finger?”  
  
Felicity nodded while swallowing heavily. “Yeah, I can.”  
  
“You need to have your finger on it perfectly or the gun won't shoot.”  
  
She nodded again and now dared to look at him. “Okay.”  
  
He met her eyes. “The most important rule you need to follow is: aim.”  
  
“Aim,” she repeated.  
  
“Take your time to make sure you're shooting at a bad guy.”  
  
“And not you as you suddenly come around a corner, you mean.”  
  
“I would prefer if you avoided doing that, yes.” The dim teasing left his voice as he now looked at her sternly. “This gun is the last solution. Only use it, if there's nothing else you can do. But if there's nothing else you can do, _use it_. Aim for the chest. It's the biggest target. Avoid the head, that makes a mess.”  
  
She nodded and immediately lowered her hand with the gun. She looked at it undecidedly for a moment. Oliver nearly winced when she trapped the gun between her upper arm and her ribs, handling it as if it were a magazine or something. Never would she handle her tablet like that, Oliver thought, but she did it with a firearm. He reached for it, taking it away from her. “Felicity,” he chided, “this is a gun. Please, handle it with care.” He stuffed it into the waistband of her skirt in her back and looked at her strictly.  
  
She looked a little caught and nodded. “Sure, sorry.” She now unfolded the map again. “I just wanted to check if we can find a place for you to hide these guys...”  
  
They didn't. Nothing on the map seemed like a good place to dispose of two corpses. In the end Oliver decided to go the distraction route again and carried each of the bodies one mile into two different directions only to then fake signs of a fighting and drag the bodies somewhere else entirely to leave a trail that was very easy to follow. Maybe it was too obvious. Maybe their bold and butch boss had ordered those guys to search the area near the cave and knew that they couldn't have been in the places their bodies would be found. Maybe this was the last proof these guys needed that Felicity and he were still alive. All of these maybes were a possibility, but Oliver had to take the risk, because it was the only thing he could think of with the limited options and his mind being distracted by the fact that he had ended up on _another_ island! Before he returned to the cave he carefully assured that he didn't leave a trail toward their real hideout behind.  
  
The sun was already rising when Oliver returned to the cave. Part of him feared that Felicity would greet him with a bullet, but when he entered the cave, he once again saw nothing. This time he didn't give in to panic instantly. Instead, he said, “It's me.”  
  
His greeting caused her to rush toward him from the alcove. She hugged him in the next moment. “Thank God, you're back.” It was a forceful hug, but she let go of him quickly. “Here,” she pressed the gun into his hand. “Take it back. I can't deal with that. Just holding it makes my hands sweaty. The idea that I might have to shoot it is freaking me out. I – unlike you – can admit when I was wrong. And I was wrong. I am fine with hiding.”  
  
He was too tired to fight and just took the gun. Without saying a word, he sank down to the floor. He didn't know how long he had slept before Felicity had awoken him, but judging by how heavy his body felt it hadn't been long enough. He leaned his head back against the rock wall and closed his eyes. A constant throbbing spread from his split lip and his jaw was aching.  
  
“Here.” Her voice caused him to slowly open his eyes again. She was kneeling in front of him and holding out the Snickers bar. “You look like you could use some serotonin.”  
  
He didn't move. It took him a few heartbeats until he lifted his hands and reached for the chocolate. “Thanks.” He closed his eyes again. His legs were bent, his arms were resting on his knees, his right hand held on to the Snickers, but he made no move to actually eat it.  
  
“I'm sorry, I was so freaked out before. I-”  
  
“Felicity.” His voice had an impatient edge, because he really couldn't deal with that now. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for. Everything's fine. I just need a moment, please.”  
  
She gave him a moment of silence – a very short moment that lasted approximately ten seconds. Her voice was soft when she said, “I remember when you came back from your island to Starling after the Undertaking and you didn't want to be the vigilante anymore.” He opened his eyes again and looked at her as she sat in the dim light of the rising sun that crept through the small entrance. “Back then you said you didn't want to put on the hood again, because when you did it was kill or be killed. I never really understood that. Not even after the Count. But I get it now. I get the weight of that decision. Of being able to make that decision. And you decided right tonight. You had no other choice. I admit that I am biased, but I really mean it. I know you don't want to be that man again. It's a good thing that killing doesn't come easy to you anymore. The fact that you still did it, doesn't make you a bad person. I am very proud of you.” She reached for the blanket that lay in a heap close to her. “And now you should get some rest. You barely slept one hour. I will wake you, if I hear anything.” She tried a small smile. “But first you have to eat. Don't even try to argue.”  
  
For once, he didn't.


	6. Here be dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these notes are getting very repetitive, but I am running out of creative ways to thank you for being awesome and supporting me so much. The positive response to the last chapter really was amazing. That chapter meant a lot to me and it was difficult to write and that's why it's extra-espcial to me that you enjoyed reading it. The biggest cyber-hug to the awesome people who took the time to leave me a comment. I have no words, just... Thank you.
> 
> Okay, and now let’s move this story along. ;-)

**6\. Here be dragons**

 

This was a bad idea. But Felicity just had to go and be all... _Felicity_. She just had to go and give him her no-nonsense attitude. It involved her entering his personal space with that determined stare while she said one very pointed sentence. Just one.  
  
When Felicity got nearly monosyllabic Oliver knew that there was no swaying her.  
  
It was when she was talking a lot and quickly while stressing certain words and flailing her hands around that he knew she could be persuaded. When Felicity put on a show like that she had some anger to vent and wanted people to know she wasn't happy. It was when she fell quiet that he knew she had made up her mind. And once she had done that she was as stubborn as he was.  
  
Okay, maybe not exactly as stubborn, but close enough.  
  
Felicity had pinned him down with a stare this morning in the cave and had told him that there was no way that she would spent the third day in a row in there alone while he scouted the area. Period. He had been stubborn enough to argue, to mention her lacking footwear, the wind that was really picking up today and the fact that he would be back sooner, if he didn't have to carry the backpack.  
  
All that had been a waste of time. But he didn’t really mind, because he could understand her. Waiting alone in their hideout, not knowing how and where he was and if the next person who entered was Oliver or somebody else, must be nerve-wrecking – especially since there was nothing to do but worry. Last night when he had returned after six hours he had realized that she had gotten in her own head too much. That was why he hadn't argued too much. It might be easier for him to be out here alone, he wouldn't get as far as he had planned, but having her with him would at least quench the worry that had constantly accompanied him the previous two days. At least he could keep an eye on her.  
  
They were heading west for two hours. Felicity was walking behind Oliver watching her every step just like he had asked her to. She wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion; an oversized sweater over a blouse and a skirt combined with naked legs and two pairs of oversized socks must be the worst outfit ever for exploring a wooded area.  
  
It was debatable if it was going to be better for walking across the field of hip-high grass they were looking at right now. Calculatingly, Oliver let his eyes travel over it. The green sea moved by the steady wind spread out in front of him without an end in sight. The ground was steadily sloping down which probably made the grass covered area seem bigger than it really was.  
  
“This is a landmark I can place,” Felicity said now from his left. He took his eyes off the landscape and placed his attention on her. She quickly glanced at him, making sure he was watching, before she pointed at the map. “I'm certain we're here.” He studied the faded computer print for some time, then he nodded. She had waited for him to agree before she pointed to another spot on the map where green was abruptly met with blue. “It seems like there's only grass ahead. And the sea.” She looked up and her eyes settled on him. “Does it make sense for us to go there?”  
  
He thought for a moment, before he made up his mind. “No,” he decided and explained his reasoning to her, “I don't want us to be caught out in the open like that. The trees at least offer some cover.”  
  
“Would you check it out if I wasn't with you?” She sounded defensive to him.  
  
“Probably,” he admitted. He knew what she would say next and so he hurried to add, “but I don't think it would do much good anyway.” He took the map from her to get a better look. His face was hard as he thought about what their next best action could be. Knowing their surroundings was important. It was the best way to reduce the many disadvantages they had against the people they shared this island with. The others were bigger in numbers, better equipped, better fed, better rested and had better knowledge of where they were – and why. If they suddenly popped up from somewhere, it was important to know where the safest place to go was. And it most definitely wasn't this field leading them to the sea where a guy with a gun and a steady hand had a very good chance of hitting them.  
  
He let the other areas he had scouted in the previous days parade in front of his inner eye. The north – that was were the camp was. He hadn't gone back there after he had killed the two guys he believed to be mercenaries. He had had to agree with Felicity that it was an unnecessary risk to take now that they had the map. There was nothing good waiting for them in the north. East wasn't an option either. It had only taken Oliver one hour until he had reached the end of the forest and stood on top of a chalk cliff. He had seen huge white chunks of chalk come undone and fall at least one hundred meters onto the rocks poking out of the crashing waves far below.  
  
“We have to go south,” he said and motioned at the map. It was the biggest part of the island left, which could mean many things were waiting there for them – good things as well as bad things.  
  
“There's the waterfall,” Felicity stated now. “That's in the direction where we woke up when we first arrived.” Regained consciousness would be a better way to put it, but that didn't make the basics any less true. Felicity's finger landed on the map and a very worrying area in the south, “There are blank spots.” That was true, too. “You want to go to dragon-country, don't you?” she asked. He lifted his head and looked at her in question. She met his gaze. “You know like 'here be dragons'.”  
  
He ignored her quip, because he was too much in tactical mode to deal with stuff like that right now and instead answered her question, “Yes, we should go there. If they haven't explored it yet, it might give us an advantage to be there first. We might find something useful or set up some traps for them. But we'll go there tomorrow.” He folded the map back up again. “We should head back to the hideout.”  
  
They turned around and started walking back to where they had come from. “I really hoped we'd find some lake or river or spring where I could wash up. I know we're in nature-survival-mode, but I haven't washed my hair in a week. And that means I'm counting the jump from a fifty meter high cliff into a lake as washing up.” She added a muttered, “I really lowered my standards since I started living in a cave.”  
  
“That cliff was no more than thirty meters,” Oliver corrected.  
  
“Right,” Felicity sent him a glance, “'cause that makes it better.”  
  
“We'll stop by the waterfall tomorrow and see if it's safe to take a swim.”  
  
“Finally, a light at the end of the cave.” The prospect of getting her hair wet really seemed to lift Felicity's spirits. Her steps turned lighter somehow, Oliver thought. This in return made him feel a little better, too.  
  
They took a different route back, but it was just as uneventful as the other one had been. Oliver knew he should be relieved that they weren't encountering anything or anybody dangerous, but it only made him wonder. Why – the fuck –  had somebody dropped him and Felicity on this island when there was just nothing here? And why was another group of men here? He knew that there was something he was missing, something he hadn't found yet. But he would find it – probably somewhere in dragon-country.  
  
They had nearly reached their hiding-place when the hairs on Oliver's neck stood up. Immediately his hand snapped toward Felicity's arm. He stopped her dead in her tracks with this. She followed his example and together they crunched down. He listened. There was most definitely somebody very close to the cave. He motioned for Felicity to stay behind him and together they snuck forward using the trees as cover. Not even thirty seconds later they saw the first man. He was standing guard, watching his surroundings, but he obviously hadn't noticed them yet. Oliver moved his hand back and rested it on Felicity's waist. It stilled her instantly. She crouched close behind him, while he craned his neck so he could see around the trees to where he knew the entrance of the hideout was.  
  
What he saw made his face harden, his mouth tighten, his jaw clench. They had found it. The anger didn't last long. He felt a jolt rush through him in the next instant that was pure relief. Thank God Felicity been so stubborn and forced him to take her with him on the day these guys found their supposedly safe hiding-place.  
  
He turned to her and their eyes met. She nodded, understanding his unspoken order and turned around. She moved carefully as to not make a sound. Oliver felt his heart beat heavily in his chest as they crept away. Again, he was waiting for a sign that somebody had noticed them – a shout, a shot – but nothing came. When he felt like they were far enough away from their previous hiding-place, Oliver straightened up and reached for Felicity's hand, making her go faster.  
  
Fuck it! The cave had been far from comfortable, but it had provided them with the most basic shelter. And now he had no idea where to go. All he knew was the basic direction: south, into unknown territory.


	7. The definition of bravery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am fully aware of the fact that I’m doing this wrong. I know that I’m supposed to wait a little longer between chapters and let you… stew for a while. It was brought to my attention that that’s how things work and that I shouldn’t spoil my readers. While I am still confused as to why and how I managed to offend somebody with my rapid (obviously irresponsible) updating. I understand that I am burning through chapters here and the fun might be over sooner than any of us would like (even though I am far from done yet, no worries), but... You know what, guys? You are awesome and I like to spoil you. So I hope you’re not offended, but here’s yet another chapter.
> 
> I had a blast reading all the reviews and I am curious to see what you think of that chapter. All my sincere gratitude and love.

**7\. The definition of bravery**

 

They walked until the sun was about to set. It was turning dark very quickly, and Oliver knew that it was too dangerous to keep going. No matter how much he wished he could put even more space between them and their pursuers, he knew it was time to stop. Not only because he soon wouldn't be able to see where he was going, but also because Felicity's steps were turning heavier. They were on their feet for nearly twelve hours – and her feet were only covered by dirty socks that were showing first holes. It was enough.  
  
He just wished he would find something that provided a little shelter, but he didn't. There was no place to hide. The best thing he could find was a group of trees that offered the barest of cover. He motioned toward it. “We'll stop there.”  
  
Felicity was so exhausted that she didn't react to his decision in any way. She just walked to where he had directed her and let herself drop to the forest floor heavily. With her back to the tree she sat, looking utterly defeated. Oliver took the backpack off. When Felicity had insisted on joining him that morning he had also taken all their sparse belongings with them. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise. He let the blanket, which he had rolled and strapped under the backpack, drop to the ground and reached for one of the two plastic water bottles he had refilled yesterday when he had found a spring. “Here,” he said softly, “drink some water.”  
  
She did as she was told and when she had swallowed, she looked around. “I never thought I'd say this, but I miss our cave.” She gave him the bottle back and closed her eyes.  
  
Oliver took a huge swig of water. “I know this is not the best place,” he admitted, “but we need to make the best of it.” He glanced around and sighed. “It's too dark for me to try and hunt something, but we saved the treat.” That was what Felicity had called the pack of waffles they had found at the bottom of the stolen backpack. The things stuffed on top of them had squashed them, but they were still good to eat. They had decided to save them for dire situations – and sitting in the wilderness, out in the open, having eaten nothing in twelve hours and having nothing else in reach qualified perfectly as a dire situation. He was about to open them, when he realized that Felicity had not reacted to his offering of the saved treat. That was very unlike her. He looked at her and saw that not only were her eyes closed, but also that her head had sunk to her chest. She had fallen asleep within thirty seconds after sitting down.  
  
With fondness Oliver looked at her. She was so brave, she was really sucking it up, soldering on and doing all she could – plus then some more. He wished she didn't have to experience this, but he was impressed with how well she was doing. She was handling things better than he had been dealing on _Lian Yu_ , he thought. But she deserved some sleep, some rest – in a more comfortable position than the one she was in now. He reached for her and gently placed her on the ground. He draped the blanket over her. “Sweet dreams, Felicity,” he whispered and sat down next to her.  
  
The moon that had been shining so brightly in the previous nights was nowhere to be seen, and soon Oliver sat in complete darkness. He could make out the shapes of the trees, but that was it. But he didn't mind. Because if he couldn't see, others were just as blinded. He had learned that very early during his stay on the other island: Darkness equaled relative safety. It was dangerous to walk around without being able to properly see where you're going. Nobody in their right mind would do it. Flashlights, on the other hand, made an opponent perfectly visible. And in the dark even the quietest sound turned louder and travelled farther. Somebody had to be very, very skilled if he wanted to sneak up on Oliver. At the moment he heard nothing, but some animal burrowing under the leaves nearby. There was no wind rustling in the leaves of the trees, no twigs snapping under the feet of a nearing enemy. It was wonderfully quiet.  
  
Until a strangled gasp came from his left.  
  
It sounded so horribly haunted that it spurred Oliver into moving. He leaned over Felicity, who was moving unruly in her sleep, and brought his hand to her cheek in an effort to calm her.  
  
It did the opposite.  
  
As soon as his fingers touched her skin, she trashed away from the touch and shot up while a panicked whisper escape her lips. That shocked Oliver so much that he didn't, couldn't react. His blood froze in his veins, because he had understood the words she had said as she had awoken from her nightmare. “Slade, no!”  
  
He couldn't really make her out in the darkness, but he heard her breathe heavily. It sounded like she was gasping for air, it was a sound of pure fear. Hearing it made him overcome his own shock. He reached for her. “It's me,” he assured her and without thinking or hesitating pulled her into a hug. “You're safe.” She clung to him, literally shaking, which in turn shook Oliver in the figurative sense. “I'm here,” he whispered into her ear. “Nobody will hurt you. I am here.”  
  
She nodded against his neck, and he felt her reluctance to let him go. Right then, he felt the same; he needed her close. He shifted her so that she sat sideways between his legs. Her forehead was resting against his neck, the upper part of her body against his chest. He draped the blanket over them and placed both his arms around her. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly and promised, “I'll be here the whole time.” Strangely, not even two minutes later he felt her breathe evenly and deeply.  
  
Oliver Queen had never been much of a cuddler. He had especially never liked girls clinging to him while he was sleeping – or trying to sleep, because who could sleep with somebody else wrapping herself around you, limiting your space, breathing in your ear, being all hot and sweaty under the covers? Oliver sure couldn't. He liked getting hot and sweaty as much as the next guy, but not while he was trying to get some shut-eye. But as he sat there in what essentially was an extreme cuddling position, he thoroughly enjoyed holding her so close. He rested his cheek against her forehead, cradled her to his body, and knew that he wouldn't let her go until she woke up. He hugged her close to him, because she needed it, and because he needed it just as much.  
  
With Felicity touching had always been comfort. Their touch had always been calculated. They never touched lightly, even the smallest touch – the hand on the shoulder, the cupped forearm – had a purpose. It was meant to send reassurance, to gain attention, to show connection, and very often it was a way to make sure the other one was okay, alive and breathing. Even the most innocent touch could turn intimate like that. Not counting the naked hug to save Felicity from hypothermia, which was too surreal to really count, the position they were in right now was the most extreme form of touch they had ever shared. It not only felt intimate, it actually was intimate. Right now Oliver needed this. He needed reassurance and he needed to send it to her, he needed to be connected to her and to make sure that she was okay.  
  
Her nightmare had shaken him to his core. It had hit him completely unprepared. Felicity had dreamt of Slade. He felt like an idiot for being so surprised by this. Slade Wilson had held a blade, the very blade that he had rammed through the heart of Oliver's mother, to Felicity's neck and had threatened to behead her.  
  
That was more than perfect nightmare material.  
  
And those were just the things he knew about.  
  
Why had Oliver never asked her what had happened before he arrived at the scene? Why had he never asked what Slade did to her? The answer to both questions was easy and embarrassing: because Oliver didn't want to think about the things Slade Wilson might have done to Felicity. He had never dared to go there before, but now, in the night's quiet darkness, he couldn't help the mental spiral he was falling down as he followed the memory of how she had jumped away from his touch.  
  
All of this was Oliver's fault just as much as it was Slade's. Oliver had used Felicity as bait. There was no other, nicer way to say it, because it was true. He had known Slade was watching and he had known what Slade would do when he thought that Felicity was the woman Oliver loved.  
  
What did it say about him that he offered the woman he did indeed love up to a mad-man like that?  
  
He had put the safety of his city, of everybody who might encounter Slade Wilson in the future, above her – and she had accepted it. Oliver could still hear Slade tell him how he had believed that Oliver “had a thing for stronger women.” Proved how little his former mentor knew. Felicity Smoak was the strongest woman Oliver had ever met. She had waited there in the mansion with the knowledge that drugged up mad-men would come to take her to a psychopath with supernatural strength, who wanted to kill her, when the only weapon she had been armed with was her sharp tongue. There couldn't be a braver or more selfless thing to do.  
  
He should have known that this experience would take its toll on her, he shouldn't have just let it slide, he should have offered her to talk about it. He felt like he had broken her, harmed her, but he would fix it. He promised this to himself right then and there. His arms closed a little more around Felicity, which caused her to sigh in her sleep and cuddle closer to him. He smiled at her reaction. He had already done the unthinkable when he had offered her up. Tomorrow, he decided, he would finally do what he had been thinking about for all of last year. Uncharted territory lay ahead, but it was time to finally match her bravery.


	8. That 'man-against-nature'-thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You left me speechless... Okay, not completly since I rambled on very much when replying to your comments... I apologize, I got overexcited, I guess. But now I honestly don’t know what else to say apart from: THANK YOU! I’m lacking adequate words to tell you how much your amazingly positive feedback means to me. I loved reading every single message you sent my way. I still sit in front of my computer grinning like a dork. You did that to me and I don’t mind. Also a big thank to everybody who send kudos my way. ☺
> 
> Just so you don’t worry: The next update might take a few days. Shocker, I know. Real life! Always ruining all the fun. But I wanted to leave you at a good place, so… I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 

**8\. That 'man against nature'-thing**

 

With the sunrise came the shock. As soon as the first glimpses of light cut through the trees, Oliver woke up. And that truly shocked him, because waking up meant that he had fallen asleep, when he should have stayed awake. Anger collected inside him. Anger at himself for being so stupid. Even though darkness meant safety, it didn't guarantee absolute absence of danger. He should have watched out.  
  
The only thing that calmed him – apart from Felicity still asleep against his chest – was the fact that he had woken up with the first traces of light. Some old reflexes, or better yet, some automatisms he had inherited on Lian Yu were obviously still working.  
  
Because with the sun always came danger.  
  
And it seemed like today danger didn't let him wait for long: One minute after he had awoken, finished cursing himself for sleeping and feeling relief that nothing had happened, he heard the unmistakable rustling of leaves on the ground which indicated somebody nearing their position. He reached for the gun he had placed next to his right, lifted it and aimed to where he heard somebody coming toward them. No, he thought, it wasn't somebody; it was something. Those weren't human footsteps, he decided and was proven right in the next moment when a wolf appeared in his line of sight.  
  
It was a huge animal. The grey fur was short, which made the muscles working underneath visible. Oliver knew a predator when he saw one. Danger was radiating from this animal, but the way it nearly casually walked toward him looked nearly elegant. Oliver tried to remember if wolves lived in packs. He didn't know, if there was a possibility that more of these beasts would show up, but he knew this: The lone wolf right there could stop its slow prancing at any moment and then he would jump toward them and attack in the next. The barrel of the gun was steadily aiming at the head of the animal, Oliver's eyes were fixed on his prey, his left hand was still placed onto Felicity's back. The wolf came closer and Oliver tried to decide how many more steps he could let it take. He didn't want to shoot the animal. A gunshot this early in the morning would draw attention. The sound would travel far and that brought the very real danger to give away their position. At the very least it would give the mercenaries a basic direction to ahead into. All of this be better to be avoided.  
  
“What's up?” Felicity's voice was so quiet and heavy with sleep that Oliver nearly didn't understand her. “Your heart's beating really fast.”  
  
“Sssh,” he answered, barely moving his lips, “don't move.”  
  
Felicity did as he told her, but he could feel her becoming more alert due to his words even as her body completely stilled. Oliver's lips tightened as his eyes were glued to the wolf. The grey animal stopped, his ears flattening to his head, which was a sign of aggression, Oliver thought. At least it seemed aggressive to him. Knowing that he couldn't push back the inevitable much longer, he tightened the grip on his gun, getting ready to kill that damn beast that stared at him with unyielding eyes – only to lose interest in the next moment. Oliver couldn't really believe it when the wolf turned around and trotted away as slowly as he had come.  
  
Letting out a sign of relief, Oliver loosened his grip on Felicity. She sat up straight and looked at him. “A wolf,” he answered her unspoken question. “He's gone now.” He brought his hand to her cheek. After the way they had spent the previous night he didn't think twice about it. His time calculating every touch was up when it came to Felicity Smoak. “Are you alright?” She nodded, but before she could say anything, her stomach rumbled. She looked embarrassed, and Oliver couldn't help but smirk. “How about we treat ourselves to some breakfast waffles?”  
  
“Oh, sounds like a treat!” She gifted him with one of her wonderful smiles and then moved away from him. Oliver got off the floor as well and he stretched. His body ached, his back would hurt all day, but the current pins and needles were the worst. Spending the night sitting up with a tree as a backrest wasn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement and a sure way to get your legs to fall asleep. He was still trying to shake blood into various limbs as Felicity opened the pack of waffles. She held one out to him and then took a huge bite of her own. She closed her eyes as she chewed, making it seem like it was the best thing she had ever eaten. “I love waffles for breakfast,” she gushed. “My grandma used to make the best ones.” She chewed enthusiastically, added a “so good,” and then she looked at Oliver. “You want a second one?”  
  
He hadn't even started on his first. But there only were eight waffles in that pack, it was better to rationalize. “No, thanks.”  
  
“I think you should eat a second one,” she objected. She didn't sound as relaxed anymore, a certain edge had entered her voice. “You can't run on fumes.” She gestured to him. “All those muscles need something to burn.”  
  
“We need to economize. This is our back-up food.”  
  
She looked at him for a moment, before she just stuffed the remaining waffles back into the backpack forcefully. “Being on this fucking island fucking sucks fucking ass!” That was such an unexpected wording coming from Felicity that it stunned Oliver into staring at her. “Now I know what people mean when they say that the economy is going down the drain. A place where waffles need to be economized just stinks! What was the name of that other island? Purgatory? Well, then this is _hell_!” That on the other hand sounded very much like Felicity Smoak. She shot around to face him, “Should we get going? South it is, right?”  
  
“Felicity,” his voice was soft. “I'm sorry. You can have a second waffle, if you want one.”  
  
“NO!”  
  
She was angry, annoyed, aggravated. This was Felicity in her unhappy mode. Normally, something he had done was the reason for her acting like that, something like making her his executive assistant or failing to notice he was being a bad friend. Normally, that ended with her stomping away from him. But she was still rooted to the spot, talking harshly, “I can't, because you're right. You're the survival expert, you're good at surviving, I am not. I mean, I did manage not to _die_ yet, but... You know what I mean! You got this whole 'man against nature'-thing figured out. I don't. And you're right when you say that we shouldn't waste our back-up food just because I have the munchies. And now we're going south! Toward the waterfall, right?”  
  
 _Now_ she was stomping away from him.  
  
Oliver stared behind her and felt like he had to at least give her that: She _was_ heading south.  
  
Reaching for the backpack and the blanket, he followed her and caught up with her quickly. They continued walking in silence, as Oliver finally ate his waffle. He busied himself chewing, because he knew that if he now told her that they might be heading south but not exactly toward the waterfall, because that lay further south east than he had decided was smart to go, she would start yelling again – and that might give away their position.  
  
Deciding that it was better to give her a moment to cool off, he reached for the map. He continued walking, switching his attention between his surroundings and the paper in his hands. He really couldn't say where they were exactly. Yesterday they had pretty randomly fled back to the west and then turned south. They were somewhere with trees, but that pretty much described the whole damn island.  
  
“We need a landmark to know where we are. Like a mountain. There has to be one of those, after all we jumped down a cliff that was at least fifty meters high.”  
  
Oliver took his eyes off the map and placed them on Felicity. Her statement was a peace offering, he knew. And he knew how to accept it. “It was thirty meters, tops.”  
  
Felicity pursed her lips. It was a playful gesture that accentuated her teasing. “Felt like one hundred to me.” She sighed. “We're not going to the waterfall, are we?” Seeing the look on his face, she shrugged. “I'm not a survival expert like you, but I'm not completely stupid, I can read a map and I know going to the waterfall might get us caught.”  
  
“We'll find someplace else for us to get rid of the worst dirt,” he assured her.  
  
“Seriously, we smell so bad. No wonder the wolf didn't want to get close to us.” She hesitated. “Keeping wild animals away... That's an upside, I guess. On the other hand, if the wind comes from the wrong side, those other guys might find us by following the stink.”  
  
Oliver just looked at her as they walked up a steadily rising slope side by side. She was in a talkative mood. That had been lacking in the last days. Maybe the full night of sleep had woken up some of her spirit that had been dulled before. He decided that he would use that to his advantage. After all, he had promised himself something last night. There would never be a perfect time to do it, so he might as well just go for it now. “You dreamt of Slade last night.”  
  
She stopped walking instantly. Oliver took two more steps, before he turned around to look at her. She was standing a little lower than him, her posture stiff. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Yes,” she admitted. “I did.” She took a step toward him, “It was nothing.”  
  
“Oh, it was something!” Oliver stopped right there. That sounded wrong, like an accusation, which it wasn't. He had to say it differently. He steeled himself by taking a deep breath. “We never talked about what happened that night...” He fixed her with his gaze. “But we should have talked about it. He held a blade to your neck...” As soon as that left his lips, he realized how stupid it was to mention it, to remind her of it. He wasn't good at stuff like this, heart-to-hearts weren't his strong suit, they never had been.  
  
“Oliver,” Felicity's hand flew to his arm, just like it had that night in the mansion. This gesture had the same effect it had had back then; it calmed him. Her eyes drilled into his, “I didn't dream about Slade hurting _me_ last night.”  
  
“You didn...” He didn't get to finish that question as its answer hit him: She had dreamt of Slade hurting _him_. With that realization came too many feelings for him to make sense of. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, because he just didn't know what to say.  
  
A small, understanding smile showed on Felicity's face and she squeezed his arm in silent support. “I was scared when Slade had that blade against my skin, I mean who wouldn't be?! But you were there. That made it easier. When I saw you there, I knew that I could do it, inject Slade. You calmed me, and I trusted you like you trusted me to do it.”  
  
His voice was heavy with emotion. “It was wrong to ask you to do it.”  
  
“No, it was right. Because it worked. I'm proud that you believed in me like that.” He let out a sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a sob. He hated himself so much right now. He shook his head in aggravation, thinking of something to say. Her grip on his arm tightened even more, “it's okay.”  
  
He placed his eyes back on hers, a little calmer. He understood what she was saying – but he also understood what she wasn't saying. “Tell me what happened when I wasn't there.” She had said when he had been there, it had been easier, but he hadn't been there the whole time. He saw her swallow heavily and added, his voice barely above a whisper, “Did he touch you?”  
  
The question seemed to surprise her. “What? No! He played some mind games, which... Okay, they were pretty effective. He was a psycho who knew how to get into other people's heads.” She saw the look in his eyes and knew that he wanted to hear it, needed to know what Slade had said. “It was the obvious, really. He told me how he'd kill me, how he'd kill you. Talking about taking an eye for an eye – quite literally. How I was a step back from what you had before. How I didn't compare to Shado. Stuff like that.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” his voice was too weak for his own liking.  
  
Felicity looked at him, calculatingly, her grip on his arm never loosening. It steadied him, reassured him while she continued telling him the truth he had demanded to hear. “The bad thing about it was that it worked. When Sara got Laurel and me away from there, all I could think of was how he told me that you didn't stand a chance, because he taught you how to fight. I didn't know how the fight was going and I was afraid I'd never see you again to tell you that I wasn't mad at you.”  
  
“Why not? You should be mad at me.”  
  
“Why? Because you were brave enough to do what was necessary? You and John risk everything every time you go out. I can do that too, you know.”  
  
“But you shouldn't have to.”  
  
“But I want to.”  
  
“I know there's something you're not telling me.” His eyes were drilling into her. “Tell me. I need to know everything.”  
  
She hesitated, but then she did. “The worst was waiting in the mansion, waiting for these guys to come and get me while I was trying to come to terms with what had just happened, what you had said. I was so confused. I was alone and I was afraid.” She sounded somehow annoyed, when she added, “there I said it. Since then I'm afraid of being alone in the dark.”  
  
Her confession hit him like a bucket of ice water, because it added another dimension to how she had acted yesterday. “And I left you alone in the cave... That won't happen again,” he promised.  
  
She smiled slightly. “That's good.”  
  
He brought his right hand up to her face, his fingers resting on her neck, his thumb slightly brushing her cheek. “I did everything wrong that night.” He sensed that she would object again and, for once, didn't let her, “The fact that it worked doesn't make it right, Felicity. I shouldn't have said what I said.” He saw her face fall and a soft smile showed on his own emotion ridden face, “I shouldn't have said it that night, not like that. I should have done it right, in a way that wouldn't have left you wondering. Because, Felicity, I do love you.” A sparkle appeared in her eyes that made his heart jump and him continue; he couldn't leave it at that, because he had to tell her everything. Right now with death possibly behind the next tree was the perfect time to get it out. “You are everything I want. You make my days brighter and you make me better. I want to be better for you. And I will try every day, if you let me.”  
  
She smiled in a way she never had before. It was like a sunrise right in the middle of the damn forest. Seeing her happiness so clearly made him smile, too. They looked at each other for quite a few heartbeats until Felicity ended the silence. “Who would have thought that a day starting with a temper tantrum over the rationing of waffles would continue like _this_. If I had known that me needing to buy a night-light would-”  
  
He stopped her right there in the best way he could think of. His left hand flew to her other cheek, and both his hands cupped her face gently and pulled her lips to his, while he closed the small gap that had remained between them. Her lips felt like home, soft and warm and so inviting. She melted into his touch and returned the kiss with a passion that excited him and caused him to deepen the kiss. Slowly, they broke apart again. He rested his forehead against hers and looked at her. Again, he was greeted with a smile that he would never get tired of seeing. Her voice was soft and coated with emotion when she said, “I love you too, Oliver.”  
  
His heart was doing an unexpected jerk in his chest. He couldn't remember ever hearing anything so wonderful. His emotions were dancing through him and there was only one way to deal with that: He kissed her again with all the happiness, relief and love he was feeling right then. When he broke the kiss he hugged her to him.  
  
He heard her mumble against this chest. “Now we really have to get off this island. I don't see much of a future for a relationship here on Hell.”  
  
He nodded agreement. “Don't worry. I have that 'man against nature'-thing down, remember?”  
  
Her soft laughter was all he needed to get through a day that had started with him staring down the barrel of a gun ready to kill the biggest wolf he had ever seen.


	9. Last words in moments of uncertain death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate spoilers myself with a passion, but I feel like starting with one of those and a challenge. So if you haven’t seen episode five of season three yet, skip this first paragraph. Because I need to ask: What was your favorite little detail about this episode? The one thing that was completely irrelevant to the plot, but still awesome? To me it was the Robin Hood poster in Felicity’s living room. That really made me laugh. ;) I also tried to come up with a short fic that explained where Felicity learned those self-defense moves. Until now I haven’t managed to create anything I’d dare to post. But if any of you has an idea - consider yourself challenged.
> 
> But now on to more pressing matters, which are actually pretty easily summed up. I love you – in a very platonic, but still very passionate way. You are amazing and I cannot thank you enough for the wonderful comments. I hope all of you enjoy this!

 

**9\. Last words in moments of uncertain death**

 

Water should be the best thing for two dirty and thirsty people to find on a deserted island. But this here proved: There could be too much of a good thing. Oliver let his eyes wander over the river that was streaming past them. It was wide, at least ten meters, and its current was very strong. The surface was unsteady, slight waves were visible and the blue was speckled with white where the water broke. That explained why the map they had acquired ended by the river: Crossing it was something only people with suicidal tendencies would attempt.  
  
He shielded his eyes from the rays of sunlight reflected by the water surface to glance at the other bank. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary – grass and more trees, always more trees –, still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that they needed to get to the other side. The only question was how they should do that while avoiding the danger of one of them being swept away by the water.  
  
They were following the river for two hours now – upstream as Oliver had decided in hopes that it might get smaller. Until now it hadn't.  
  
“How much longer 'til we give crossing a try?” Felicity asked from his right.  
  
The question was her version of 'Are we there yet?' She was repeatedly asking him that every twenty minutes. Still, he tried to keep from snapping at her, he clung to his patience as he said, “It's still not a good idea to try that.”  
  
“Oliver, this is our ninth day without a shower. And I know that peeing in the woods comes naturally for men, but wom-”  
  
“Felicity!” He couldn't cling anymore, his patience was used up. “I am aware of the fact that you feel dirty. You happen to have mentioned that. A lot! We are also running low on drinking water, which is a more pressing matter than the fact that your hair is not as shiny as it usually is. We will NOT get into the river, because the current is way too strong!"  
  
She huffed next to him, but said nothing. They continued walking in silence. The sun was shining from the perfectly blue sky. For once it was pleasantly warm, which had resulted in Felicity wrapping the stolen sweater around her hips and made it more bearable that she was walking barefoot. Felicity had thrown the socks out yesterday. They had practically consisted of holes and dirt. Her first action afterward had been to catch a splinter. Now she was walking with the faintest limb and still refusing to take his shoes. She was so goddamn stubborn he wanted to shake her. He, of course, didn't. Instead, he had decided that next time he won a fight on this godforsaken island he would remember to take his opponent’s shoes.  
  
It had been three days since they had last been faced with their gun-wielding pursuers. Oliver didn't trust this sudden peace, he couldn't believe that they had actually shaken them off. He was always alert, watching for hints that they were followed, especially when they were as visible as they were here by the river, which was flowing quickly next to them. The sound of the gurgling water was mixing with the wind moving through the trees and a few birds calling out. It would be nice, if the circumstances weren't so bad.  
  
Suddenly, Felicity's voice cut into his thoughts and demanded his full attention. “It's been two days since we started dating and we-” She stopped right there, when she noticed his reaction and looked at him honestly consternated, “Are you laughing at me?”  
  
“No.” Still, there was a smile playing around his lips as he now met her eyes. “I just wouldn't call it 'dating.' I think we're way past dating.”  
  
“You think?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
She thought for a moment. “Well, I guess that's a good thing. Considering we're on a dangerous island. I mean, where would we go on a date? It's not like the mercenaries' camp has good service.”  
  
“They had a camp stove and metallic pods.”  
  
She pursed her lips to stress her teasing, “Oliver Queen, you know how to win a girl's heart.”  
  
He just smirked and said nothing to that, letting her have the last word. He felt a happy warmth inside him. She did that to him; in the middle of the most impossible situation she lifted his spirits and made him smile. The fact that they could be here on this island – running out of water and not knowing where to go exactly, being hungry and dirty – and share a laugh despite all of that, made him feel like they could conquer anything. With her by his side he could do it. And he knew that not even their volatile tempers could change that.  
  
He let his eyes wander over the scenery again. “So,” he picked up the conversation, while he watched the nearby trees, “we're past dating for two days...”  
  
“Yes, we-” She stopped walking and talking as her eyes snapped to him. Oliver understood why she was reacting like that; he had heard it, too. Instinctively, he stepped closer to her. His face turned hard from one moment to the next, his eyes were still glued to their surroundings. That had sounded like birds fleeing, a huge number of them had left the trees and flown upwards with alarming cries. It had come from his left, but now he also heard something from his right. He couldn't see anybody yet, but he knew right then that he had been right: They hadn't shaken their pursuers off.  
  
“How I hate it when you're right.”  
  
He kept from nodding to Felicity's muttered statement. As true as it might be, he had other things on his mind; things, like deciding what their next best move was. First, he reached for the gun he had tucked into his waistband with his right while using his left to direct Felicity to stand behind him.  
  
“Denk nicht mal dran zu springen. Wir haben deinen Kopf im Visier!”  
  
The shout came from somewhere to his left and Oliver wondered if that guy would ever learn that it just wasn't smart to do things for show only. He was giving up his position, because he was trying to intimidate them by talking in a language neither of them understood. That it was an intimidating-tactic – Oliver was sure of that. The German was putting on a show; he thought he was so cool.  
  
He was an idiot.  
  
Sadly, even an idiot could get a lucky shot. Sadly, Oliver had nobody to really aim at. As he had told Felicity, aiming was the most important thing. If you shoot at an enemy, you want to hit him – generally and especially when you're on an island with very, very limited ammunition. Oliver knew that he had to make every shot count.  
  
“What do you what?” Oliver yelled back. It was an attempt to play for time as much as it was a try to distract their opponent who obviously liked to talk – and when he talked he kept from shooting.  
  
Laughter was the first answer. It fit the idiot perfectly, Oliver thought; it was another showy mannerism, another cheap cliché to prove how much he had this situation under control and that they were at his mercy. “From you? Nothing.” The accent was thick. His struggles with the 'th' were confirming Oliver's theory that these people were Germans. But at least he now understood what the other one was saying. And right now he said, “Just give us the girl and you can go.”  
  
Oliver felt his blood freeze and Felicity stiffen behind him. This guy had to be fucking kidding him! Oliver's face had hardened as soon as he noticed that their pursuers had caught up with them, but now his expression turned into stone. “That won't be happening,” he spat and tightened the grip on the gun.  
  
“Oh, we can let it happen!”  
  
The first guy in a black cargo-outfit appeared in Oliver's line of sight. Not hesitating, Oliver pressed the trigger with the calculating precision he had learned in the last years. He fired once and hit the man square in the chest. A second man stepped from behind a tree and Oliver fired again. Suddenly he felt Felicity stuff something into the side pocket of the backpack. He couldn't let it distract him – the second man went down –, not when he had exactly fifteen, no, fourteen bullets left in his gun. The third shot brought the third hit, but before Oliver could land the fourth, the others started shooting back. A bullet flew dangerously close by Oliver's head. He had stood upright all this time, shielding Felicity with his body, but he knew it was only a matter of time until the first bullet would hit him and then he would be no use in protecting her.  
  
This here, he knew, was certain death. He knew he had to choose uncertain death.  
  
He turned around quickly, forcefully, and grabbed Felicity. When she jumped with him, he realized that she had anticipated his next action. They crashed into the river and instantly the current grabbed them, pulled them under water and took them with it.  
  
Water was all around them, for a moment Oliver wasn't sure which side was up as he tumbled around; but then he felt ground under his feet and pushed himself off. Oliver held on to Felicity as tightly as he could. They both broke the surface and gasped for air. Felicity coughed, which only caused her to swallow more water. She angled her head so it was over water and managed to take a deep breath through her nose. Only after that did Oliver dare to take his eyes off her. He struggled to turn around, but he didn't see any angry men in black clothes standing by the river. They were already too far away from the spot where they had jumped in.  
  
The current was tearing at them, dragging them along, mercilessly. Suddenly, Oliver felt a pull at his feet, it was too strong for him to do anything against it. He didn't even try to fight it, instead let himself be pulled to the ground. He took Felicity with him, still not daring to let go. Again, he felt his feet touch ground, bent his knees and pushed himself off, upward, away from the pull. It worked. They reached the surface again, water gurgling aggressively around them.  
  
Oliver was just getting air into his lunges, when it was knocked right out of him again. Pain shot through him as his left side connected with a rock. The shock and the acute pain caused him to loosen his grip on Felicity the tiniest bit. It was enough for her to slip from his grasp. No, no, NO! He ignored the pain that was spreading from his ribs through his body and stretched his hand out toward her, straining to reach her. He saw her do the same, struggling against the power of the water to take his hand. There, nearly there! Only the tiniest gap was separating them, he felt hope, but then he felt himself being pulled under again. This time he really had to push down the instinct to struggle against the downward pull. For a third time he went down and came back up again. When his head broke the water surface, he looked around instantly.  He couldn't see her. Panic slowly rising, he trashed around the water. This couldn't be happening! She wasn't there! “Felicity!” he yelled against the crashing water and again, “FELICITY!” There was no answer. Panic took an even stronger hold of him and no matter how well he knew that this wasn't helping, he couldn't help it. “FELICITY!”  
  
“OLIVER!” There, he had heard her. And then he saw her. She was awkwardly holding on to a rock a little further down. He was quickly pulled toward her.  
  
He struggled to get closer to her position and got ready to grab her outstretched arm. Relief crashed through him, when he felt his hand close around her wrist just as hers closed around his. Her nails dug into his skin as she held on to him with all the strength she could muster. He held on tightly too and pulled himself toward her. How she managed to cling to the rock, he had no idea, but she did. She looked at him, blinking against the water in her eyes, and strangely the first thing that entered his mind was that she had lost her glasses. Not that it mattered; nothing mattered as long as she was still fine and with him. He felt like hugging her, but it wasn't the time for that. The safety of dry land was barely one meter away. He watched the bank and their surroundings carefully, then he looked back at her. “We'll push off this rock and then we need to try to get closer to the bank. There's a low hanging branch about twenty meters farther down, I'll try to grab it, okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
He hesitated for a moment. She had slipped through his fingers and out of his reach before. He couldn't stop his mind from going there, from contemplating that it might happen again and that the last words he then would have said to her were 'I'll try to grab it, okay?' He looked at her. “I love you.”  
  
She had been trying to make out the branch he was talking about, but now her eyes snapped to him. She tried the smallest smile in the middle of the water tearing at her and pressing her against the rock. “And I love you.”  
  
He took another second to enjoy this sentence that still was so excitingly new coming from her, before he did as he had told her before. His grip on her wrist was tight as he let go of the rock. Swimming while holding on to each other wasn't easy, but with forceful kicks they managed to not just be pulled along by the water but to get a little closer to the bank. The branch was getting closer and closer and closer and… His hand closed around it. The current was still pulling them along and Oliver just prayed that the branch could handle their combined weight dragged along by the water. He nearly held his breath as he waited for the snap to come. He waited and waited and...  
  
“I guess we didn't drown, again,” Felicity sounded pleased, “cool.”


	10. The limitations of being in Arrow-mode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like an idiot repeating myself all the time, but I cannot thank you enough for all of your support. The comments you leave are amazing, I love reading every single one and I appreciate all of this more than I can adequately express! The fact that you are all so invested is just amazing and overwhelming in the best way. Know that you are the reason I am updating so fast (even if it might take a few days until I can give you the next chapter – you know: life). Okay, enough said, on to what we’re all here for:

**10\. The limitations of being in Arrow-mode**

 

Good thing he had saved bullets. There were fourteen of them left – somewhere on the ground of the river. He couldn't believe he had lost the gun. Felicity had called it a minor thing and had reminded him of the second gun that was in their backpack; but that minor thing bugged Oliver, because it was just one aspect of the many things that were just going wrong at the moment. The overall wrongness of the situation pissed Oliver off more than he could say. He was angry and getting angrier with every passing minute.  
  
One hour ago he had been beyond relieved. When they had both managed to climb back to safe and dry land he had been so at ease and happy, because they had used their little tumble in the river to the fullest and reached the other bank. His mood had turned foul when Felicity had reached for the side pocket of the backpack to take her glasses out. Oliver had been too focused on shooting their pursuers to really realize what she had done. She had anticipated that their only escape route was the river and stored her glasses somewhere safe. Only that the pocket of the backpack hadn't been safe. When Oliver had crashed into the first rock he had not only bruised his ribs but also cracked the left lens of her glasses.  
  
The fact that his side throbbed and he couldn't move as freely as he wanted to combined with the sight of Felicity with her messed up glasses had really driven home the fact that things weren't going their way. In the last sixty minutes Oliver had alternated between pacing and sitting unmoving – the latter had mostly been a testament to his hurting ribs. They had headed away from the river and found a tiny lake surrounded by bushes and trees. Oliver had agreed to stopping, and while they had spread out their wet stuff – their clothes, the blanket, their one towel – to dry, Felicity had taken a swim.  
  
Not even that wonderful sight could calm Oliver down. He was too busy cursing himself, this island and everything that was connected to it.  
  
He was too passive, he decided. They were constantly running away, being chased by these Germans whose best characteristics were that they were horrible shooters and that they always left an escape route, even if it was a risky one. They were reduced to reacting, because Oliver didn't know what the best cause of action was. Oh, he knew what he wanted to do – namely, go back to the camp of these fuckers and burn it down, hunt them all down –, but he couldn't do that, of course. Not only was that seriously bad anger management – and he was working on getting better with that –, but also incredibly stupid. It would endanger Felicity. That was the last thing he wanted. He needed a smart way to take action without putting her at risk unnecessarily.  
  
He was very aware of the fact that the main source of his anger was the fact that those guys were after Felicity. If they believed that they would get away with going after his girl, they were greatly mistaken! They-  
  
“Okay, that's enough!”  
  
Felicity's voice ripped him out of his angry thoughts. She had left the lake and draped the mostly dry towel around herself. Her hair was stroked back, clinging wet to her shoulders. Drops of water were running down her face, gliding over her collarbone and further down. It was an unbelievably sexy sight and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Seeing her walk toward him like that should calm him, but strangely it didn't. He had cultivated his anger in the last hour and the sight of her, all beautiful and natural and vulnerable, just drove the point home that he wasn't doing a very good job handling this situation, keeping her away from danger.  
  
She met his angry gaze evenly. “I let you brood for one hour, that's enough.” She stopped in front of him. “Could you please snap out of this vengeful boyfriend thing you've got going on and get into _Arrow_ -mode?” She looked determined one second, but utterly stunned the next. Her voice softer she said, “I never called you my boyfriend before.” She smiled. “That's nice.”  
  
Yes, it was. Damn her for getting past his defenses so easily! He shouldn't return her smile just like that in the matter of seconds when he had been nursing his anger for sixty minutes. Still, it was happening.  
  
But then her words really sunk in and he realized that she was right. He had let himself be distracted by her, by the feelings she stirred in him, by the change in their relationship. The overwhelming need to protect her had consumed him, bound all of his energy and thoughts. His emotions had driven him and he had failed to look at this, at their situation rationally. His _Arrow_ -mode had really been offline for days.  
  
“Oliver, seriously.” Felicity looked at him. “I know when you're getting too much in your own head. There's no time for self-loathing, right now. And there's really no need for that!”  
  
“There's every need for that!” he snapped. “I shouldn't make so many rookie mistakes. Like letting those guys sneak up on us. This isn't my first stint at an island, you know!”  
  
“I know.” She was still calm, didn't raise her voice like he had. Her right hand held on to her towel, keeping the ends clutched to her chest, her left moved to his upper arm, stroking it slightly, gently. “It's not fair that you have to go through that again. It has to wig you out.”  
  
“Felicity, that has nothing to do with it.” She just looked at him, her eyes glued to his, her head a little tilted, saying nothing. His lips curved in unhappiness, his jaw was clenched and then he couldn't return her knowing gaze any longer. He looked away from her and at the water, whose calm surface was glistering in the bright sunlight. He swallowed. “Okay, maybe, it has a little to do with it.”  
  
Her left hand moved from his arm to his face as she stepped closer to him. “That's okay. I would be weird, if it hadn't. I mean how big are the chances that you end up stranded on a deserted island _twice_?”  
  
A humorless laugh escaped his lips, but with a shake of his head he composed himself again. “I'm sorry, I'm not handling this very well.”  
  
“I think you're doing fine. I'm biased of course, because you're my boyfriend...”  
  
He couldn't keep the smile from appearing on his face; and she got on her tiptoes and kissed him sweetly. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her lips on his. When they parted he took another moment until he lazily opened his eyes. “Okay,” he cleared his throat, “you're right. I need to stop thinking about this like a boyfriend.” He straightened up and took a step away from her. He needed to do this, step back, if he wanted to snap out of boyfriend-mode. He couldn't think straight with naked, wet Felicity so close to him. And he especially couldn't when he was wearing nothing but his underpants. He looked at her. “ _Arrow_ -mode on.” He cleared his throat again while also trying to clear his head. “What do we know? We know that they are after you...”  
  
“And that makes absolutely no sense. Because the only thing I'm really good at is all things IT, computers, hacking-”  
  
He didn't like hearing that at all and cut her off, “You know that's not true.”  
  
“Oliver, seriously! _Arrow_ -mode! You first came to me because you had computer-troubles. It's what I'm good at. Like you're good at all things fighting.” She hesitated before she hurried to add, “not that you're a killing machine. That's not what I wanted to say, because I know you're not. We talked about that. It's just that you're good with your hands.” She flinched. “Boxing! I don't know about the rest. I mean you are a good kisser, so I guess you know what you're doing with your- Three...two...one.”  
  
And he had really believed she would stop doing that now that they were together. He was strangely glad that she didn't. A smile appeared on his face.  
  
Felicity had rebooted and went back to her original point. “What I mean is: We're on an island, Oliver. What do they want an IT-girl for? That's as senseless as carrying that tablet around with us. Especially now, after we took the second swim with it. Even if the GPS-chip survived the jump from that cliff, it's certainly destroyed now. And I kinda hoped that Diggle might use it to find u-” She noticed the look of shock appearing on his face. Instead of finishing her thought she asked, “what?”  
  
“A GPS-chip...”  
  
“Yes, it-” She stopped right there and he saw realization take over. “You think they are tracking us? That's how the Germans keep finding us?” Now she seemed angry. “Why didn't I think of that before? I should have thought of that!”  
  
“Maybe it's not the Germans. We still don't know if they were the ones who brought us here. I have the feeling it wasn't them. But I think you're right: Somebody's tracking us.”  
  
“Was tracking us. The tablet's completely dead... Should I still toss it into the lake? And I guess we should get going again.” She pressed her lips together. “And I hoped we could stay here for a while. It's nice here. I mean as nice as it can be considering the circumstances...”  
  
Oliver watched as she headed toward the backpack and took the tablet out. “We really shouldn't stay here,” he agreed. “The trees all around make it way too easy for people to sneak up on us. Even though I am sure that the Germans need some time 'til they cross the river. I think we're still a good stretch ahead of them.” He watched her walk close to the water and chuck the tablet away as if it were a frisbee. It hit the water surface with a splat and was gone in the next moment, leaving behind only ripples on the water surface.  
  
He walked to where they had draped their clothes. They weren't completely dry, but it was good enough. He reached for his pants and put them on. He had just closed the last button, when Felicity stopped next to him. She offered him another small smile and said, “I know this situation is hard on you.”  
  
“Felicity,” he reached for her shoulder. “It's not easy for either of us. It's okay, if you're scared.”  
  
“I am,” she admitted, “I am scared. But I think this situation is even harder for you.”  
  
His arm dropped and with it his hand left her shoulder. “What?!” She had to be joking!  
  
But she looked dead-serious. “Oliver, this is island 2.0 for you. I waited for you to bring it up on your own terms, but I should have known better than to wait for _that_ to happen... We should talk about this.”  
  
“No,” he shook his head. “What we should do is get going.”  
  
She reached for his hand. “Oliver, please.” Her eyes were drilling into him. “I know you, and I know you always feel responsible to keep everybody safe when we're in Starling, I can only guess how much you're stressing right now. I mean you apologized for not handling things better, when I think you've handled everything that was thrown our way amazingly. We're not badly hurt, we're one step ahead of them and this is _not_ your fault. I mean… If anybody's to blame it's me...”  
  
He placed his hands on her shoulders again. “Hey, if anybody's to blame, it's the people who brought us here.”  
  
“Don't comfort me when I'm trying to comfort you!” A smile showed on her face and her hand moved to his cheek. “I know you're under pressure for so many reasons. I understand that, but I need you to know I'm here for you.”  
  
“I know that, Felicity. I really do.” Moving his hands from her shoulders to her face, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. “That's all I need,” he whispered and kissed her again, deeper this time. The kiss startled slow, nearly lazily their tongues danced around each other. His fingers left her cheeks and travelled downward. Slipping his hands underneath the towel, Oliver brought them flat to her back and pulled her closer to his body. Simultaneously, they deepened the kiss, and for the first time since they had awoken on this island Oliver's mind emptied. All he did was feel her, her lips, her tongue, her arms around him, her warmth close to him, her soft skin. And he felt the towel between them slipping as he tasted her. All of it was intoxicating. The thoughts that had kept coming relentlessly were stopped, he wasn't analyzing this, he just _was_. He could get lost in it, lost in her. The urge to tug the towel away was overwhelming, to let his hands roam all over her body, to finally explore her as he had dreamt uncounted times. But he knew it wouldn't be smart to go further right now. Not when they were in wide-open space surrounded by bushes that kept potential attackers well hidden.  
  
And with that thought his mind started working again. He fought to come back to his senses. Reluctantly, he stilled his hands, stopped his caresses and the kissing. Breathing heavily he glanced at her. His ribs throbbed with every deep breath he took, but he ignored that – because it was so worth it. His voice was throaty as he said, “We need to get going.”  
  
Slowly, she opened her eyes, which had fluttered shut. She brought her right hand to his chest and trailed her fingertips over his Bratva tattoo. “And I hoped we could put the fact that we're finally a little cleaner to good use.”  
  
There was a certain tone in her voice he had never heard before. It didn't help him to clear his head, it distracted him so much that he needed a moment to understand what she had just said and to realize what that meant. When he did, a grin appeared on his face. “Don't tell me that's what the constant complaining about being dirty was really about!”  
  
Her fingertips stilled instantly, she hesitated for a moment before she took her eyes off his chest and met his. “I...” A slight blush covered her face. He could sense that she felt awkward, but it was an awkwardness that felt very differently from what he was used to coming from her. There was a certain shyness, an uneasiness that normally wasn't there. Felicity Smoak was many things, but she wasn't shy. Her voice sounded unsure as she started anew, “We're past dating for two days and I just...” She trailed off again.  
  
The grin was still on his face, but it turned into a smile now. That was kind of unexpected, but... awesome! He kissed her again, but stopped quickly. He knew that he had to, if he didn't want to get lost and ignore the dangers around them. “Unfortunately, I'm in _Arrow_ -mode right now, and we need to go somewhere safe. As soon as we do, I'll snap out of it instantly and we'll continue this.”  
  
Her breathing was a little heavier; her eyes were darker than he had ever seen them and it took all his willpower to let her go. Slowly, Felicity nodded. “Okay, you're right, it’s not worth dying for.”  
  
“I don't know; I kinda have the feeling that it might be.”


	11. Let's compare scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t want to turn this into a huge announcement, but I for once feel like I have to add some… defensive comments going into a chapter. Because I have the feeling that some people will use the comment field to tell me that what’s happening here is a danger that Oliver wouldn’t take. So, let me tell you: I know. And I can’t disagree. I thought about this for quite some time and ultimately I came to a simple conclusion: It’s stupid, but I want this to happen anyway. Period. So, the Arrow-mode stays offline even longer. I apologize.
> 
> Also: It was brought to my attention in a completely unrelated matter that there’s a debate going on about where Starling City is located exactly. Apparently, Star City is at the West Coast? I never thought about it, because I was always sure that Starling was further east – especially since Felicity mentioned to Oliver that she moved 1000 miles to work at QC… But since this is a story for a show that has John Diggle calling Felicity’s cellphone, asking her where she is, only for her not to answer that question and still he mysteriously calls the landline at Oliver's old CEO-office, I think we can all agree to just cut me some slack regarding this possible inconsistency. The same goes for mentions of Felicity’s past and family. I wrote this chapter before episode five of season three aired, so some things are a little off. Puh. Okay...
> 
> The biggest cyber-hug goes to all the lovely people who took the time to leave me a message. I know a group hug will feel a little awkward, but feel individually and platonically loved! ;-) Thank you guys so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter despite all the things I said before!

 

**11\. Let's compare scars**

 

The knife felt good in his hand. It was perfectly balanced and perfectly sharp. He had to give that to the guy who had tried to kill him with it only to get killed himself: He had known good knifes; aiming with this one and throwing it was fairly easy. Still, Oliver would have preferred a bow. But the chances of finding one here were practically non-existent. A bow was a very special weapon. It was understated, not as intimidating as a gun. It was also harder to use, needed more practice and coordination than pressing one trigger. You couldn't put on a show with a bow like you could with a knife, so it was highly unlikely that the mercenaries would use one. Building one was just as unlikely. Oliver knew that you couldn't create a decent bowstring just like that.  
  
That was too bad. Because even though he knew how to use a gun perfectly – aiming was his bread and butter, after all –, but he wasn't able to make bullets. Arrows and arrowheads, on the other hand, he could make them in his sleep. If he had a bow ammunition wouldn't be a problem. Making it would also have kept him occupied, which was always a good thing.  
  
Despite all of this, right now the knife really was the weapon of choice; it was the best for the task at hand. His body flat to the ground, the knife tightly in his hand, Oliver crawled over the bank toward the small stream. Other than the river they had nearly drowned in this morning, it was a small and slowly flowing creek. They had set camp next to it. Oliver could see Felicity sitting by the small fire he had lit, watching him silently. He placed his complete attention on the water, watching, waiting for the right moment, he lay there unmoving. Then, suddenly, his right hand snapped forward and the knife connected. Getting to his feet he reached for the fish that was swimming belly up. With quick movements he prepared the fish, cut of the gills and the large blood vessels near the spine, he also gutted and scaled it, before he did the same to another fish that had already been laying next to him. Both fishes impaled on sticks, he headed to Felicity. “Dinner,” he informed her.  
  
She took the fish he offered her. “Fish and sticks, awesome.”  
  
Sarcasm was dripping from the last word, but he ignored it and just held his own fish over the fire. “Just think of it as camping,” he offered, knowing how lame he sounded.  
  
“I always hated camping. I only did it once and we went back home after one night when my mother nearly started a wildfire.”  
  
“Camping stove?” Oliver asked.  
  
“Cigarette,” Felicity answered. She sighed and finally moved her own fish closer to the fire. “How do we know the fish is done?”  
  
“It's good to eat when the meat flakes of,” Oliver answered and looked up at the already darkening sky. The sun would set soon. They would have to put out the fire once it was dark to not give away their position. He just hoped their dinner would be ready by then. He cleared his throat slightly. “So, your mother, huh?” God, he was so bad at starting conversations like that. “You already told me that she was... your mother. And a cocktail-waitress in Las Vegas.”  
  
Felicity's eyes settled on him. Slowly, she nodded. “She is. Both.”  
  
Tilting his head to the side a little bit, he looked at her, waiting for her to give him more than that.  
  
Finally, she sighed. “We don't have the best relationship,” she admitted. “She's... My mother is...” She trailed off.  
  
Oliver felt like he had already had this exact conversation with her. “She's your mother,” he offered her a way to end the sentence.  
  
His quip failed to amuse her. An uneasy expression on her face she nodded and continued to stare into the fire, sitting stiffly next to him, Indian style, while she held on to the stick with both hands.  
  
“Hey,” he said softly and brought his right hand to her knee, “you have met my mother, the scheming liar. Whatever yours did, I'm certain it can't beat the actions of mine.”  
  
Taking her eyes off the flames, she placed them on him. “At least you didn't catch your mother making out with your prom date.”  
  
That sentence hit him a little unprepared. He blinked. “What?”  
  
“Yeah, exactly. That evening didn't go as planned.” An unamused snort escaped her. “And it took me forever to find the perfect dress. What a waste!” Her left hand let go of the stick to move through the air. “And your mother didn't show up completely wasted at your school's open house. The principle actually informed child services after that. It caused me to spent two months in foster care.”  
  
“How old were you when that happened?”  
  
“Nine. But to be fair: Mom sobered up pretty quickly afterwards. Did everything, detoxing, AA meetings, twelve steps, sponsors, the whole program. Ultimately, people decided that it would benefit her recovery, if I went back to live with her.”  
  
“Did she stay sober?”  
  
“Yes, she did.”  
  
Oliver was relieved to hear that. Tightening his hand, he gave her knee a comforting squeeze. “She did that for you. She fought for you. Means that she does love you.”  
  
“Yes, I know. I know she loves me. But she's just so messed up. Makes it hard to be around her. She's always carefree and careless. Having fun and men – those are the only things she really cares about.” Felicity sighed. “Thank God after graduation I had some job offers already lining up. From QC, of course. Apple also wanted me, Google, Blizzard and the NSA.”  
  
“The NSA?” He looked at her in disbelieve. “And you honestly chose QC?”  
  
“Starling City was further away from Nevada.” She shrugged. “Plus I have bad history with them.”  
  
“You have a bad history with the NSA?”  
  
"I might have hacked them one time...”  
  
“You hacked the NSA?”  
  
“I did. I was thirteen and I got caught. That was a whole new dimension of teenage-angst, let me tell you. First and only time my mom went into mother-mode. Grounded me for a whole month. Thank God, the NSA was embarrassed by getting bested by a thirteen year old that went by the name 'barbie girl' or I would have gone to jail.” Her eyes snapped to him. “I was ordered by the court to never tell anybody about it, but I know you're good at keeping secrets, so...”  
  
There were so many things that needed clarification he didn't know where to start. He just reached for the most irritating information and laced his voice with sarcasm, “Your mother grounded you for a _whole_ month?”  
  
“Yeah, no TV and no computer.”  
  
“Wow, when she goes into mother-mode there's obviously no stopping her,” he remarked dryly, but realized in the next moment that he hardly was the one to talk. After he had pissed on that cop while completely wasted, his mother hadn't even grounded him – a disapproving glance was all he had received. He placed his eyes on Felicity, “So, you got into the habit of hacking very early on?”  
  
“I did. I never turned getting caught into a habit, though...”  
  
“That's good, we should keep it that way.” She nodded agreement and he added, “I'm glad you chose QC.”  
  
“Me too.” She smiled, but sobered quickly. “I'm sure your childhood was different from mine.”  
  
“Very different,” he admitted, “easier, I guess.”  
  
“You saved the hard part for later on.”  
  
He nodded and was about to say something to that when she switched the stick with the fish she was still holding to the flames from her right to her left hand. Instantly, his own left her knee and reached for her now free hand to get a better look at the dark spots that were lining up on her wrist. The bruises were an angry blue bordering on purple – and they were his doing. He had known that he had held on to her tightly while they had been trying to reach that branch and get out of the water, but he hadn't known he had bruised her so badly. How had he not seen that before? Those marks he had left on her body were hard to miss.  
  
Sensing that he was about to say something and guessing correctly what he felt like saying, she stated, “Don't you dare apologize for this. We wouldn't have made it out of the river together if you hadn't held on tightly.”  
  
Knowing that she was right didn't make this any better. Still, he nodded and swallowed the “I'm sorry,” that was dancing on his tongue.  
  
“If you want to talk about bruises I suggest you lift your shirt.”  
  
His eyes, which had been glued to her bruised wrist, snapped to her face. He felt caught, but tried to act aloof in the next moment. Feigning non-understanding, he frowned a little, “what?”  
  
“Quit the bad acting,” she said strictly. “I can see how carefully you're moving.” She reached over to the hem of his t-shirt, which had been white once but had turned very filthy in the last days. Dirt and mud were mixing with bloodstains, which were a reminder of the fistfight that had ended with a split lip. Ignoring his obvious disagreement, she pulled his shirt up and gasped. He had anticipated it looking bad. Every move he made, he felt it and as he now glanced down he saw an angry bruise spread over his right rib cage. The coloring ranged from a dark-blue that bordered on black to a soft purple around the edges. “God,” was all Felicity said to that.  
  
Tugging on the shirt until she let go he pulled the cloth down again. “It's nothing. They are not broken, I think, cracked at the most. I've had worse.”  
  
“Oh, great,” she said sarcastically, “'that really makes it better!” She looked at him for a moment, thinking, her face unreadable. With the air of a decision being made, she then rammed her stick into the ground so that the fish was above the flames and took Oliver's out of his hands to position it next to hers in the same manner. He had sat on the ground with his legs stretched out beside the fire, but as she now gestured for him to make room for her he spread his legs to allow her to sit between them, which she quickly did. Facing him and with her legs left and right to his waist, she pulled his shirt up again.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked.  
  
“I want to take a look at the worse.”  
  
“Felicity...” he sighed and there was enough defiance in his voice to halt her.  
  
Her hands stilled in mid-movement, but her eyes showed a certain determination as they landed on his. “I've seen them before, you know. You run around shirtless all the time. _All_ the time. And I was there when you compared scars with Sara and John. That was like a really weird pissing contest. I remember perfectly how you said that you've never been hit by a grenade before. Like, in a 'maybe-I-should-try-that'-kind of way.”  
  
A sad smile showed on his face. “You really did feel left out that day, huh? But we're no club you should want to join.”  
  
“Well, I have a scar now,” she motioned to her right shoulder, finally letting go of his shirt, “bullet. But it wasn't deep.”  
  
Knowing that the slightly proud way she said that shouldn't amuse him the way it did, he fought to keep his face strict. “I was there, Felicity. And I still remember Sara comm-ing in that you've been shot. That isn't exactly the fondest memory I have regarding you.”  
  
“Let me tell you, Oliver, I know what that feels like.” Seemingly annoyed, she stared at him for a moment until her face softened. “You don't want to talk about it. That's okay. I should stop pressuring you.” The tone in her voice showed that she was serious about this. She really was ready to let it slide.  
  
But for once, he wasn't. “You never asked before. Why do you want to know now?”  
  
She hesitated shortly before she answered. “It's the island,” she admitted then. “Being here on _Hell_ makes me wonder what _Purgatory_ was like...” She trailed off. Bringing her hand to his cheek, she offered him a small smile. “You were so different when we first met. So very intense. When you brought me in to Team Arrow – yeah, I call us that occasionally – back then you were so hard and... It's hard to describe. But after these last days... I can see why you were like that and... I don't want you to become that guy again.”  
  
He pressed his lips together as his face hardened. Hearing her voice those worries tore at his insides, because that honestly was a worst-case scenario. The Oliver Queen who had returned to Starling City two years ago hadn't been the nicest guy. He had seen people as targets, he had seen potential threats everywhere, he had not trusted anybody, had kept everybody at arm-length. That Oliver Queen had been all act and all business. That Oliver Queen had been nothing but a weapon.  
  
But even though Oliver feared many things regarding this second time on an island, the possibility of turning into that guy again wasn't one of them. The danger of that was practically non-existent. Because Felicity as here with him.  
  
The first time he had met her marked the moment he had started leaving the uncaring version of himself behind. Meeting her had been a turning point in his life; it had been the best direction to head to, because it had ended him up with her.  
  
Misinterpreting his reaction and his silence, Felicity now stiffened a little, her hand left his cheek. “I don't mean it like I didn't like you back then. I did, I mean, I seriously crushed on that guy. But it's just that you-”  
  
He stopped her with a kiss. Quickly, he brought his lips to hers, while his arms closed around her and pulled her even closer to him. When they finally parted, he kept his face close to hers. “I won't become that guy again. Because you're here. You keep me from becoming that... intense again.”  
  
“You're still pretty intense,” she mumbled, but hurry to add, “in a good way. I like this intensity of this.”  
  
He couldn't help but chuckle softly, but caught himself quickly. Giving in to a sudden impulse, he leaned his upper body back, reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. The sun was about to disappear, the twilight of sunset was around them, spreading fire over the sky, but it was still enough light to show off his marked chest perfectly. He motioned to the scar below his right shoulder. “That was the first one.” He saw the surprise on her face, but she caught herself quickly. Slowly she brought her hand up, her fingers traced the scar tissue that nearly formed a perfect circle with frizzed out endings. He looked past her, staring toward the trees, as he continued, “I had just buried my father when I was shot from behind.” He pointed toward his back with his right hand. “An arrow. Through-and-through. Hurt like a bitch. Obviously freaked me out. Yao Fei did it, he was Shado's father.” He cleared his throat. “Believe it or not, but he turned into my first mentor on the island.”  
  
Felicity frowned as her fingers still traced the uneven skin. “So this was his version of tough love?”  
  
“Something like that.” He dared to look at her. “It's ugly, I know.”  
  
Surprised, her eyes snapped to his. For a few moments she just looked at him and for once he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. What she did next, it caught him completely by surprise. Leaning forward she brought her lips to his scar. Gently, she kissed it, giving it attention Oliver wasn't used to. His scars, they caused people to gasp and look at him with pity and shock, but they had never caused anybody to caress them, to study them in this way. Her lips moved over his chest, trailing kisses across it to his Bratva tattoo and higher. Her lips left his skin and were replaced with her fingers. His breath hitched in his throat when her fingertips found the scar on his left shoulder, an even uglier protruding thing. Softly, she traced it with a feather-light touch as she looked at it, before she brought her lips to his marked skin again. Without really noticing what he was doing, he closed his eyes. All he was able to do right now was enjoy it, enjoy the slow teasing attention she was giving him, the trail of kisses she left over his chest, the softness and gentleness of it, the feelings it arose in him.  
  
When he felt her hands pressing against his chest, a clear signal that she wanted him to lay onto his back, he came back to his senses. His eyes snapped open as he realized how completely he had dared to place his attention on her touch and anyway from his surroundings. “Felicity,” he caught her hands with his, lifting them off his skin, “we need to stop.” She looked at him in question and he felt like adding, “This is not safe.”  
  
“This is the safest we've been since we arrived here.”  
  
“There are guys after us, guys with guns.” Really, he had to be the voice of reason here? She had to be kidding him!  
  
“You spent one hour setting traps around the camp. Plus – there's this creek that's going nearly full circle around our position. You said yourself that nobody could cross it without making a sound.”  
  
“I know-”  
  
“You said we were safe here for now. You said that before you started fishing.”  
  
That was true, he had said that. Of course, it had been a wild guess. He wanted to say more, but this time it was her cutting him off with a kiss. It was a passionate kiss, and it ignited the smoldering flame inside him that he had tried to extinguish.  
  
He was about to give up his weak resistance, when she suddenly broke the connection again. “But you're right, your ribs are bruised. You're hurting, and we should-”  
  
Another sentence was left unfinished as his lips crashed down on hers. He had contemplated fighting it, but he knew that the fight had been lost before it had even begun, because he was only fooling himself, if he acted like he didn't want this, like he didn't want this to happen right now.  
  
His hands cupped her cheeks as he deepened the kiss. Parting his lips, his tongue tipped against hers while her hands flew to his stomach before they traveled to his sides and further to his back. Their tongues danced around each other and intensified the longing until Oliver couldn't take it any more. Letting go of her face, he reached for her blouse and the first button. With skilled fingers he opened them one by one until he ended the kiss and brushed the blouse back over her shoulder. Now it was him touching his lips to her skin, kissing her cleavage, nibbling at her collarbone, while his hands danced down her spine. Her breathing was getting heavier and her hands rested against his chest again.  
  
This time he followed her wordless request, let go of her and sank back onto the forest floor. She moved to sit onto his legs; his hands moved to her waist. For a long moment they looked at each other, eyes fixed on the other one and Oliver couldn't remember her ever looking more beautiful. Her blond hair was wild around her head, her lips were reddened, filled with blood from all their kissing and there was a spark in her eyes he had never seen before. It was a beautiful promise that excited him, made the need inside him grow. By then he was far too lost in all of this to waste one thought on the fact that it wasn't the smartest thing to do this right here and right now.  
  
The last traces of light were dimly visible; the stars were starting to make an appearance in the evening sky. He could see them freckle behind Felicity as he looked up at her. It was a beautiful backdrop, but in the next moment it was drowned out by Felicity bringing her hands to her back and unclasping her bra. Now his breathing was getting heavier as nothing shielded her from his searching eyes. A small smile on her lips she bent down again. Their naked chests were touching, there were absolutely no barriers between them and it was an amazing sensation. Her hands roamed his body with her lips following, both slowly, thoroughly caressing his chest, his stomach, before she started to fumble with the button of his _Arrow_ -pants.  
  
Stopping her he reached for her and flipped them over, ignoring the pain coming from his throbbing ribs. Now it was he towering above her, gazing down at her with a small smile on his face. She returned the smile and brought her hands up to his neck. Again they kissed, passionately, demandingly, while her hands gently tugged on the hair on his neck. Her hands rested on his head as his lips left hers to start their own exploring on her body. Her skin felt so soft under his searching hand and lips. All of this was pure bliss: the sensation of her hardening nipple in his mouth, the soft moans that left her lips, the way she arched against him as he let his fingertips trail up the inside of her naked leg.  
  
They didn't rush this but took their time for gentle exploring and soft caressing. He had waited for this for years and he wanted to do this right, treat her right. Bit by bit the rest of their clothing was discarded; each garment dropping to the ground next to them a new revelation. And when she finally stopped the teasing and closed her hand around him, her thumb brushing over the tip, her fingers stroking, all he could do was let his head fall back and enjoy. A deep groan left his mouth as he closed his eyes. The excitement her skilled fingers caused grew stronger and he knew he had to stop her, if he wanted to avoid a premature ending. Opening his eyes, he saw that she was looking at him, watching his every reaction with a smile playing around her lips that he found too sexy. He answered it with a grin of his own, reached for her and flipped them over once again.  
  
Dipping his tongue against her neck he brushed it upwards against her pulse point before he nibbled at her earlobe. Meanwhile his hand slid down her body toward her center, between her legs where wetness greeted him. A soft moan was his reward as he found her sweet spot and brushed against it. Her heavy breath brushed his ear shell and he knew there was no need to wait any longer. He kissed her again as he positioned himself between her legs. Her arms flew around him and he felt her fingers digging into his back as he slowly entered her. He had to stop kissing her, had to close his eyes, because of this was nearly too much. Not even his bruised and hurting ribs could destroy it. The ecstasy was by far exceeding the pain.  
  
Finally he opened his eyes again and looked down at her. Their eyes connected and there was no need to ask or say anything. Slowly he stared to move. Not taking their eyes off each other, they moved in sync. As he thrusted into her, she brought her hips up. Their skin rubbed together so perfectly. Slowly, nearly lazily they moved, taking their time to build the tension. He had waited so long and now he wanted this to last forever, wanted to burn every aspect of it into his memory: the way she breathed through her slightly parted lips, how her eyes fluttered closed for a second, before she forced them open again to look at him, the way how her legs closing around him caused him to enter her deeper. All of this was memorable. The tension built inside him more and more and caused his movements to steadily grow a little quicker. Her breathing became harder and he could sense how close she was. Knowing that he wouldn't last much longer either, he brought his hand down between her legs and pressed his thumb against her pleasure point. He was rewarded with a surprised moan first and then with the wonderful view she presented him as he sent her over the edge. She fluttered around him, her body tensed while her face relaxed and his name left her lips in a soft whisper. It was enough to make him follow her with one last hard thrust.  
  
Instantly afterward he captured her lips with his and kissed her hard until he couldn't any longer. Both were gasping for air when they parted. They looked at each other in their post-orgasmic bliss and all Oliver could think was that he had been right before: This was most definitely worth dying for.


	12. When it rains, it pours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I wrote you a small novel at the beginning of the last chapter I feel like making it quick this time: I thank you whole-heartedly for being amazing and supportive and for sending so much love my way. And since (some) people didn’t seem opposed to it, I think we should group hug. Come here all you beautiful people! ... See! It’s not awkward at all! ;-) All my love!

 

**12\. When it rains, it pours**

 

They had gotten away with being stupid. Because giving in to passion that night by the creek had been stupidly dangerous. Like a stupid, horny teenager, Oliver had been so focused on her, on everything she did to him, everything he did to her, that anybody could have crept up on them and caught them literally with their pants down and defenseless. Anybody could have followed the flame of the fire that had kept burning in the darkness and find them. By the time Oliver had been able to move and put it out it had been very dark already. At least the fish had been done – very well done, but still eatable.  
  
Despite the undeniable stupidity of it, he didn't regret it. Being with Felicity in any way could never be a regret to him.  
  
Instead, it had turned into a perfect memory to keep him warm during the last three days that had been filled with constant rain and absolutely no shelter. They were both soaked to the bone and Oliver knew that the danger of them getting sick was so high that it practically was a certainty. The only positive aspect of it was that they hadn't seen their pursuers once. They were probably sitting somewhere dry and warm. The idea of being captured and thrown into a tent, out of the rain, was starting to turn more and more appealing.  
  
That was probably the hunger talking. The last three rainy days had been too wet to create a fire, there were practically no eatable plants on this god-damn island and, even if rationalized, six remaining waffles didn't last forever. On the other side of the river there had been many rocks and little water. Over here there was water all around, and Oliver was beyond sick of it. Just as he was sick and tired of Felicity's stubbornness. She refused to let herself be carried by him – or to take his shoes. Instead, they had cut up the towel and tied it around her feet. It was the most basic protection, but it was better than nothing, he guessed.  
  
Dark clouds were covering the sky and blocking out most light. Oliver guessed that it was only early afternoon, but a dim twilight surrounded them as it had done constantly in the last few days. Their situation had – after a slight, short improvement – gone downhill fast.  
  
The worst thing was that they were about to have nowhere left to go. They had nearly scouted the whole area south of the river and they had found nothing. Oliver glanced at Felicity who was walking next to him with heavy steps. Walking in the rain was a pain in the ass, but it was better than sitting in the rain, on the cold and muddy ground. After three days of constant rain the green roof far above them, created by the crowns of the trees, offered absolutely no cover anymore, but instead caused even bigger, more collected drops to fall down on them. Getting wet while sitting around made you feel even more stuck. Walking at least took you somewhere and kept you a little bit warmer.  
  
But he could see that Felicity needed a break. The fact that she hadn't said anything in the last hour was another proof for that he didn't really need. She looked so tired – and thin. She had lost much weight in the last two weeks, since the day they had ended up here and had started living off caught animals and rationalized sweets. Thank God, she had stopped debating what she would eat first once they returned to Starling City – it was a tie between Belly Burger and Chinese dumplings – after the first few days. Oliver knew from experience that doing that, thinking about food, didn't help the cravings at all. Much the opposite, it only made it worse. Oliver was pretty sure that Felicity, just like him, had reached a point where she didn't even feel the hunger anymore. That was a dangerous point, lethargy was lethal, and the health-threatening rain only made it worse. He knew he had to do something about it.  
  
“Hey,” he reached for her hand and stopped, causing her to halt next to him, “we should rest.” He pulled their remaining gun out of the waistband of his pants and held it out to her.  
  
Wordlessly, she took it. It had become something like a ritual: Every time he left her alone to hunt or set traps, he gave her the gun. She had stopped making a fuss about it in the last few days. Oliver was pretty sure that she only took it for his sake, but that was fine with him as long as she took it. “I'll take a quick look around, okay?” She nodded understand and acceptance, but still did not say anything. He kissed her, gently, and caught her eyes with his, “I love you.” Another ritual: perfect last words, every time he left her. Because you never knew; he could hit a rock and she could slip through his fingers. There was danger all around. Even though he had forgotten it that night under the stars, the past three days had pushed the constant danger their lives were in, their health was in back into his face. The signs were all around them and they were hard to miss.  
  
“And I love you,” she whispered back. He kissed her again, longer and stronger this time, before he let go of her and did as he had told her: take a look around and make sure that there was nobody around.  
  
The forest floor was soaked; the sound of raindrops hitting leaves was all around him. The unchanging scenery was unnerving; there were trees all around, tall stems towering above him into the air. Here – on the south side as Felicity called it – there were more bushes than there had been on the other bank. Not a big improvement, if you asked Oliver, but some of them carried a sparse number of eatable berries. Apparently, they had ended up on the island a little too late and had barely missed the right time for a fruitful harvest.  
  
When he returned to the spot where Felicity sat under a tree he had managed to gather two hands full of berries. He could practically see her swallow a comment about that and was thankful that she kept from greeting him with a sarcastic remark about their dinner. Three rainy days had seriously drowned his mood, and he really didn't need her attitude right now. He sank down next to where she sat on the backpack and held his hand out to her. Wordlessly she took a few berries. It was nothing; he knew and he hated it. There had to be a way to start a fire. His eyes landed on the backpack. That would burn... But cooking meat over flames created by plastic couldn't be the most healthy thing. He wasn't desperate enough to do it. Yet. Neither was he willing to resort to eating raw meat. Felicity had hinted at sushi and raw fish, but that was made from salt water fish. If they just ate the fish from the creek or the river, they might be full of bacteria. That was another risk he wasn't willing to take. Yet.  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
  
Felicity's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. His eyes left the pathetic berries he had been staring at without really seeing them and settled on her. “Survival stuff.” It wasn't an exactly elaborate answer, but it summed up the basics. He didn't want to explain all his thoughts to her right now; they were too depressive to be spoken out loud.  
  
“Does it involve the fact that we nearly explored the whole island without finding anything?”  
  
He inhaled sharply. It took him a moment until he said, “For now I'm thinking about food.”  
  
“What if there's nothing to find here? And I'm not talking about food.”  
  
“There must be something,” he insisted. He saw that she was about to react to this and knew what she was about to say, but he couldn't have that right now. His voice was harsh and louder than was smart when he said, “There IS something here, Felicity. Because if there isn't, the only explanation for us being on this fucking island is that somebody found it funny to drop us off in the middle of nowhere for these Germans to hunt us for sport. And that is NOT happening!”  
  
With huge eyes she looked at him. Instantly, he felt guilty for snapping at her. He had really tried to not let his bad mood out on her, but there was just so much aggravation inside him. The look on her face showed him clearly that that possibility, the idea of somebody hunting them, had never crossed her mind before. It said a lot about his past experiences that it had been one of the first worst-case scenarios that he had come up with. He sighed. “I apologize. If there's nothing here, we'll head back to the other side and the camp.” Slowly she nodded and he brought his arm up. “Come here,” he whispered and closed his arm around her as she cuddled to him. He moved his hand through her soaked hair, brushed the strands that had been clinging to her face away and kissed her forehead.  
  
“Part of me is waiting for John to pop up any moment,” Felicity admitted softly. Oliver's hand closed around her shoulder in comfort. “I mean,” Felicity continued, “when you went missing after your mother's death he was the one who suggested to go to A.R.G.U.S. and ask that intimidating woman for help. And with Lyla around he has an even better connection-” She stopped talking abruptly as she felt his posture stiffen against her. She lifted her head off his chest and looked at him in question, “what?”  
  
“Amanda...” Why hadn't he thought about that before? “She knows about the Foundry. And she has the means to bring us here.”  
  
Felicity sat up straight and looked at him. “You think she could be involved?” She frowned in honest confusion. “Why? I mean, what could she possibly hope to achieve by that?”  
  
“I don't know.“ Oliver's face was hard. “But now that I think about it, this is awfully Amanda Waller's style.” And that worried Oliver even more than being hunted by mercenaries with bad aim.


	13. Going out with a bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, finally we’re getting to the good part of this story. At least I think that we do… I really, really hope you agree.
> 
> You’re probably getting tired of reading it every time over and over again, but it’s just a fact that needs to be stated every time over and over again: You and your support in the various form blows my mind! You guys are amazing and I am more thankful than I could say.
> 
> Okay, and now to the (as I hope) good stuff!

 

**13\. Going out with a bang**

The rain stopped suddenly. One moment it was raining and in the next the sound of raindrops hitting leaves was gone. The unexpected silence was ringing in his ears; the sudden absence of a constant background-noise was deafening. Clouds were still towering in the sky, lighter and darker shades of grey flowing into each other. The sun was nowhere in sight, but at least the constant downpour had ended – and that was something. Oliver had just taken it as a sign that things were looking up.  
  
It was forced optimism, he knew that better than anyone, but he needed to cling to it. He needed to keep thinking that there was some hope left, even though things really didn't look like it.  
  
They had nearly searched the whole damn island. The whole damn island, apart from the wide grass field that he had decided not to explore on that day Felicity had first joined him on his scouting trip – was is really nearly two weeks ago? It seemed wrong that so much time had passed since then, while at the same time it felt like a lifetime ago. So, apart from the field they had nearly explored every last bit of the island. The idea that he had made a wrong decision to not cross the green sea turned his stomach, because then their search would have ended two weeks ago.  
  
And they were searching for something, searching for the reason behind all this. Oliver had to believe that he could finally understand why they had ended up here. Oliver had to believe that there was reason.  
  
He had made them explore the previously blank spot on the map in circles. Starting with a wide one they had narrowed it down. They were nearing the center bit by bit. Until now they had only discovered trees, bushes and creeks. The chances that the thing they were looking for – whatever that was – was in the last few unknown square meters were practically non-existent.  
  
Oliver knew that he should start planning how to enter the camp of the mercenaries. It was a course of action he had wanted to avoid, it was something he had pushed from his mind, because it was just a very dangerous thing to do. Those people seriously outnumbered him and were far better equipped than Oliver who had a gun with exactly 21 bullets and a knife. If he really wanted to go there some serious planning would be necessary. If he did it he needed to do this very smart. Or very aggressively. Those were the two ways he could enter the camp: as quietly as possible or with the biggest bang he could muster.  
  
It was a decision he had to make – tomorrow. He really couldn't bring himself to do that now. Not yet. That was a decision he would make tomorrow after they reached the middle of the south side and ended up empty handed. Today he would force himself to keep a positive attitude and be glad that the rain had stopped. Right now he would go and get them some meat to cook over the fire he didn't know how to get going with the wet wood all around. Right now he would go and concentrate on that, because thinking about anything else wouldn't do any good anyway.  
  
With sure steps he walked ahead. There was a small stream only five minutes away, he knew, they had passed it, before Oliver had decided that it was getting too late. They needed to set camp and get a fire going so that they were done with their rudimental cooking before sunset.  
  
Danger and health issues were battling inside Oliver. He knew perfectly well that keeping a fire going in the darkness was nothing but a well-visible signal that would give away their position. They had gotten away with that once, but Oliver wasn't willing to try his luck a second time. Theoretically.  
  
Practically there was another voice inside him that told him that a safe position wouldn't do them any good if they froze to death. The nights were getting colder and felt even more freezing in their wet clothes that just didn't seem to dry. A fire would provide some warmth they desperately needed. That Felicity desperately needed. She had started sneezing a few hours ago. After all she, they, had been through in the last days with the constant rain, it wasn't surprising. In fact, it was a surprise it had taken so long for the rain to get to her. She was walking around with bare legs and without shoes for days.  
  
Sighing, he tried to push those thoughts away. He needed to focus on the task at hand, which was catching their dinner in this creek. They were living of fish, Oliver knew, but it was the easiest and quickest way to organize them food that had some substance. He didn't have time to look for something else; he didn't want to leave Felicity waiting too long.  
  
Finally, he reached his destination. The stream was slowly flowing past him. Moving quietly and carefully Oliver neared the water. Keeping low, he made sure that he didn't scare any fish away, while he ignored his still badly hurting, bruised ribs. His grip was tight around his knife; silence surrounded him, only disturbed by sounds of the water and the birds. The latter had accompanied them in the last few days. Apparently, birds didn't mind the wetness all around, they had been singing relentlessly even in the rain. Oliver's eyes were fixed on his pray as he brought his hand with the knife up and quickly down. The blade hit the fish perfectly and killed it with one very precise hit. Straightening, he was about to reach for it, when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
A change in the air around him caused the hair on his neck to stand up. Something wasn't right, he knew, he could feel it. Reflexively, he brought his hand to his back where he stored the gun – only to realize that he had followed their well-practiced routine and had given it to Felicity. His eyes scanned his surroundings, which was a never changing scenery of trees. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but then he heard something: a twig snapping.  
  
The sound came from the other side of the creek and it spurred Oliver into movement. Not bothering to be quiet, he turned around and started running. He knew that he had made the right decision in the next moment, when a volley of bullets hit the tree he had just disappeared behind.  
  
He heard the familiar German voice behind him. “Hinterher!” it ordered in an aggressive shout.  
  
Oliver ran as fast as he could, zigzagging, while the bullets sprayed around him. He contemplated leading them away from Felicity, but then he suddenly heard a shot from the exact direction where he had left her. His already heavily beating heart hitched in his chest and sped up even more. His whole left side ached, each step he took, each time his foot connected with the ground it sent a shock through his body and pain spread from his ribcage. Each breath he took hurt, but he couldn't let that slow him down; he wouldn't let that slow him down. He ran full speed, jumped over a fallen tree and kept running as soon as his feet touched the ground again. Another volley of shots hit a tree, spraying wood chips. His pursuers were close, he knew, and in the next moment he saw Felicity, who was looking at him with huge eyes. A man lay a few steps away from her, rolling on the ground, holding his leg.  
  
Surprise and relief flooded him simultaneously and mixed inside him until they combined to utter dread. “RUN!” was all he could come up with. He yelled it at her. She followed his order without hesitation while he ran to the wounded mercenary and took the time to pick up his discarded gun. Oliver dared to glance behind himself – and realized that it was a bad, a very bad mistake while he was doing it. He had just caught a glimpse of the leader, when he suddenly felt himself thrown back and around. Agonizing pain spread from his shoulder; his right hand went numb nearly instantly. He had been hit.  
  
Those men would show no mercy, Oliver knew that with absolute certainty. They wouldn't be satisfied with capturing him or immobilizing him, they would kill him. They wouldn't leave it at the bullet that was already in his shoulder, they would put a bullet in his head if he gave them a chance to do so. And Felicity would be next – not to end her life, but to do with her whatever they needed her for.  
  
The latter thought held more horror for Oliver.  
  
The shot connecting with his shoulder threw him off balance, made him stumble, but he caught himself before he fell. Without looking, he pointed the gun he had picked up behind himself. He started running as he pressed the trigger, and now it was him sending a volley of bullets into the air. The yell of pain that hit his ears seconds later told him that he had hit somebody by pure accident. But this time he didn't waste time to glance behind him. Ducking, he ran while bullets sprayed around him.  
  
Felicity was running ahead of him, but he was quickly catching up with her. She had been foolish enough to take the backpack. She should have just left it behind, it did nothing but slow her down. There was nothing useful in there, anyway. Awkwardly, she now jumped over a streamlet. She needed an instant to catch herself, before she continued running. Oliver could see how heavy her steps were. Angry inscrutable yells came from behind him as he now jumped over the water himself without slowing down. Oliver realized that they had stopped shooting now that he had nearly caught up with Felicity. So, they were careful not to hit her. They wanted her alive. Oliver didn't know if this thought calmed him or not.  
  
Her breathing was heavy as he reached her side, her steps were forced and in the next moment she nearly fell when her foot bumped against a protruding root. A yell of pain flew from her lips, but Oliver wouldn’t let her stumble or stop. He reached for her just in time, kept her up and on her obviously hurting feet. Holding on to her, he forced her to keep moving. He made her keep up with him, run ahead, past trees, but he could feel that their pursuers were catching up. It was only a matter of time until they caught them, until someone dared to aim at him and put a bullet in his back. He knew they couldn't outrun them, not this time. The third time wasn't a charm for Felicity and him.  
  
His heavy thoughts were dragging him down. The last weeks were catching up with him as he ran past trees, forcing Felicity to keep moving, even though she was now really gasping for air. His right shoulder ached where he had been shot; his left side throbbed in sync with his heavy heartbeat. As much as he tried to ignore it, the pain was there and getting worse and even though Oliver didn't want to he had to accept the reality of this: He couldn't go on much longer.  
  
Suddenly the trees were gone. From one moment to the next he had a clear view of the cloudy sky as they ran onto a clearance. The forest floor was replaced by grass that damped his heavy steps. It grew in a nearly perfect circle that was surrounded by trees. And in the middle of the circle... He was too winded to curse, but his face hardened as he tried to decide if it was good thing or not.  
  
That was what they had been looking for, Oliver knew. That concrete cube overgrown with grass and ivy had been their destination from the beginning.  
  
Letting go of his hand, Felicity took the last steps toward it – toward a rusty metal door leading into this bunker that wasn't more than two times two meters and not even one meter fifty high – and ripped the green mess away. Turning his back to the entrance, Oliver raised the gun again and waited for their pursuers who were now stepping onto the clearing. The leader was grinning broadly. Grey fur was draped across his shoulders, a gigantic wolf-head dangled down his front. The sight made Oliver sick. But the other man seemed very pleased with himself as he looked around and said, “Just the place we have looked for!”  
  
Oliver had a perfect aim at his head – and other than these guys he knew he wouldn't miss. If he pressed the trigger there were two things that could happen: They could panic because they had lost their leader or they could get seriously aggressive because they had lost their leader. Oliver had just decided that that was a risk he was willing to take as long as he could make that smug asshole stop grinning like that, when he heard a loud metallic scratching coming from behind him. Felicity had opened the door, Oliver reasoned and tried to decide whether it was a good idea to enter a bunker that ultimately was nothing but a big trap that – with the right amount of aggressive enthusiasm – could be opened. And those guys just seemed perfectly enthusiastic for any kind of aggression.  
  
“Get in there and we kill your man,” the boss addressed Felicity.  
  
To Oliver's horror her reaction to this threat was to step in front of him. Her voice was strong as she said, “If you want to kill him you have to kill me first.”  
  
The evil grin of the man draped in wolf's fur didn't waver the slightest bit. “You know we need you alive. But we don't need you unhurt.” His grin managed to widen. “Shoot her in the knee.”  
  
Before any mercenary could even take aim, Oliver reached for Felicity. Grabbing her around her waist, he lifted her up, turned around and passed the door Felicity had pushed open. He nearly stumbled because there was an unexpected step down right behind the threshold. Still, he had to duck to not bang his head against the ceiling as he let go of Felicity and reached for the big wheel that was on the inside of the door. He pulled the door shut and was already turning the wheel on the inside, locking them in, when the sharp sounds of bullets hitting metal rang his ears. A loud banging sound followed as the locks slid heavily into place. They were safe. And surrounded by complete, impenetrable blackness.


	14. Adding pressure and finding reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judging from the reactions I got, I finally managed to add a decent cliffhanger. Awesome! I never quite got the hang of them before, but it seems like I am improving. ;-) Sorry, guys, I’m just teasing, because I’m still so happy about the very positive response to the last chapter. I really hoped you’d enjoy that sudden twist and I am just so so very excited that most of you did. That’s amazing! You are all amazing. I cannot thank you enough!
> 
> Oh, and – yes – the last few chapters weren’t checked by a beta. There might be mistakes ahead; they are all mine, but if you find any, feel free to keep them.
> 
> One last thing: All possible similarities to a show called _Lost_ are accidental. All I know about the show is what Tommy Merlyn told me. ;-)
> 
> Okay, enough said. Enjoy!

**14\. Adding pressure and finding reason**

 

In the utter darkness surrounding them their heavy breathing sounded even louder. Oliver couldn't see a thing, but he could hear Felicity swallow hard, and in his mind he could practically see her: how she stood there, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath, her eyes full of worry, her full lips pressed together, the strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail wild around her face. Any moment now she would say something...  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
That – not entirely expected but perfectly fitting – word billowed around them as it hit the concrete walls and was thrown back at them. The way the echo returned to them showed Oliver that they weren't in a little closed cube of a room. That, he decided, was a good thing that needed to be explored. “Try to reach a wall and feel around,” he ordered. One second later Felicity bumped into him, hitting his shoulder with her head. The connection caused him to wince.  
  
“Sorry,” came her small voice from his chest. “I thought I'd get past you.”  
  
Oliver knew that it wasn't the right moment for this, but he couldn't help but chuckle as he moved his arms to close them around her. “You should know that nothing gets past me.”  
  
He had just hugged her to him when suddenly light hit his eyes, causing him to blink. A neon lamp flickered to life to his left. Simultaneously, Felicity’s and Oliver's heads turned toward the unexpected illumination that revealed stairs leading down.  
  
“Motion sensor,” Felicity concluded and looked up at him. Oliver brought his eyes back to her as well and instantly saw a big bloody spot spreading from her forehead to her hairline. His first urge was to check her for injuries, but then he realized that she had bumped against his shoulder – the shoulder where he had been hit. Felicity now noticed the wound, too, he saw it in the way her eyes grew huge. “You're bleeding,” she breathed.  
  
“It's nothing,” he tried to reassure her, but she was already taking her sweatshirt off.  
  
“You have to press on it,” she said, talking even faster than usual.  
  
“Felicity-” he tried again, but she ignored him. Instead, she brought the balled up sweatshirt against his wound. Telling her that it wasn't the best idea to press that dirty thing against an open wound crossed Oliver’s mind, but then he saw how her hands shook and he decided to keep his mouth shut and just do as she asked him to. Covering her hand with his own he pressed the cloth to his shoulder. “Felicity,” he said softly, but was cut off by a staccato of loud bangs coming from behind him. The shots hitting the metal door were a haunting reminder that the mercenaries were still out there and not happy.  
  
It also sprung Felicity into action. She pulled her hand from under his and reached for his arm. “Come,” she ordered. Her grip was tight around his elbow as they walked down the concrete stairs, which were so narrow that Oliver and Felicity barely fit next to each other. The steps led straight ahead and down until they ended in a platform that caused them to turn right where more steps were waiting for them. Another platform followed after that and more steps. The further down they walked the more neon lamps flickered on above them. They cast a bright and aggressive light against the grey concrete that was all around. The concrete steps ended in a concrete floor that lead them to a huge room with concrete walls ending in a concrete ceiling at least three meters above them.  
  
But Oliver's eyes were glued to the setup in the middle, carefully he took it all in and there was only one logical reaction to it. “Now we know why they are after you.”  
  
Very slowly Felicity nodded before she grip tightened on his elbow tighter again. “There,” she said and looked toward an opening leading into another room to their right. “Keep pressing,” she ordered with a voice that was full of tension and pulled him past the very impressive set-up into the next room, where very old, very used, very dusty furniture was waiting for them. “Sit,” Felicity said as she pointed at a wooden chair.  
  
Dutifully he sank down on it and instantly a clang sounded through the room as the uneven legs of the chair hit the hard ground. Felicity was already heading through yet another door which lay opposite from where they had entered. “Really, it's nothing,” he called after her, but didn't get any reaction from her.  
  
A minute passed until she returned with a metal box in her hands. The light beige thing had a red cross painted on top of it. Felicity dumped the worryingly old-fashioned first aid kit onto the wooden table next to Oliver. With trembling hands she opened the lid. She blindly reached for a vial that lay inside and checked the label. “It's Russian,” she said and held it up for him to see. “Can you read that? Was is that?”  
  
Oliver only glanced at it shortly. “Whatever it is, it's thirty years past its expiration date.” His left hand was still pressing the sweater to his wound, but he brought his right up to reach for her hands and still her fumbling fingers. “Felicity, listen to me. It looks worse than it is.”  
  
“John told me to press on the wound. Are you pressing on the wound?”  
  
Oliver frowned. “When did he tell you that?”  
  
“The night I found you in my car. When your mother-”  
  
She didn't finish the sentence, but swallowed heavily and tore her eyes away from his. Right then everything clicked into place for Oliver. He tried the faintest smile. “This is different,” he said, his voice soft. “Back then the bullet barely missed the carotid.”  
  
“I know. It was a zone two wound.”  
  
“O-” he bit back a smile, “okay.” His hand tightened around hers. “Then this is a zone one. We just need to take the bullet out and clean it and I will be fine.”  
  
Felicity's eyes snapped back to him. “Zone one sounds worse than zone two.”  
  
Sending her a pointed look he said, “then it's a zone four. I don't know the military expression. But I do know that it's nothing to worry about.” His hand left hers only to settle on her cheek. “This is nothing like the night I crawled into the backseat of your car, I promise.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “Believe me.”  
  
Leaning against his hand, she whispered, “I believe you.” She closed her eyes for a second before she opened them again and appeared to be a bit more collected. “That night you were much more snappy with me.”  
  
“Well, back then I was seriously hurt.”  
  
Slowly she nodded and he could practically see her pulling herself together. “Okay, let's get the bullet out.”  
  
He shook his head. “We should just patch it up and prepare for the Germans bringing down the door above.”  
  
“No!” Using her very determined voice, Felicity continued, “There's a bullet in your shoulder and we will get that out.” She turned and his hand fell from her face as she reached for the first aid kit. Lifting up a clamp she said, “I guess this isn't exactly sterile.” She let it drop again.  
  
Oliver made a move to get up. “Fel-”  
  
“NO!” Her index finger flew up and pointed at him in determination. A clear warning was visible in her eyes. “You will sit here, wait for me and not move. You hear me, Oliver Queen?”  
  
Amused, he looked at her, “I do, Felicity Smoak.” He watched her turn toward the wooden cabinet that stood next to the door to Oliver's right.  
  
“You can make fun of me all you want, but we'll do as I say.” She opened drawers only to slam them shut again. “My first aid training might only be rudimental, but I know that foreign matter should not stay inside one's body.” She peaked behind doors, whose glass was covered with lacy curtains from the inside. “Was somebody living down here? There's a coffee set in here.” She slammed the door shut again and turned around to walk to a second door and a room she hadn't yet entered. Oliver looked right at it and saw something that looked like a very old-fashioned kitchen. “We should really brush up on our first aid training,” Felicity stated as she started checking the cupboards. “Roy, too. We all need to beco-” She didn't finish her thought as a triumphant “aha” escaped her lips. She reached into a cupboard. When she returned to Oliver she had a bowl in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. Noticing the look Oliver sent her and interpreting it correctly, she defended, “It's better than nothing!”  
  
Watching as Felicity dumped the camp in the bowl and poured alcohol over it, Oliver studied her and realized that she needed this. She needed to patch him up right now, even though he could do it himself. It was a distraction from the fact that they had fled into an old bunker, had locked themselves in here, with little water, no food and angry men trying to get it. And they would get in. Oliver knew. If they had explosives, they would literally bang down their door sooner than later. There was nothing she could do about any of these things, but this here was something she could do: She could treat him. Oliver pushed down his own anxiousness to snap into action. He would give her those five minutes.  
  
Oliver scanned the contents of the first aid kit she had spread out over the table. They were lucky; he saw mull and bandages, both unused and wrapped in plastic, also a needle and thread. She noticed what he was looking at and reached for all these things, readying them, dropping the needle into the alcohol, too. “Okay,” she said then. “Let's do this.” Slightly lifting the vodka bottle, she asked, “Do you want some? Might help...”  
  
“I pass,” was all he said as he lifted the sweater of the wound. The whole shoulder area of his shirt was soaked with blood. The thing had been dirty before, but now it was beyond wearing. “Cut it open,” he told Felicity, who reached for the scissors laying on the table. With the first cut it became clear that the scissors had seen better days. It was no use. Felicity just dropped the scissors onto the tabletop noisily, reached for the hem of his shirt where she had left the barest cut and ripped the shirt open. Oliver knew that it wasn't the right time or the right place and that it definitely weren’t the right circumstances, but something about her doing that seemed strangely sexy to him. That thought was pushed from his mind when her unsure and questioning eyes met his. Realizing that he had to talk her through it, he tried to reassure her with a small smile and told her to take the clamps and get the bullet out. She hesitated for a moment; then she went to the backpack and got her glasses out. Since one lens had been cracked she had stopped wearing them, but now she slipped them onto her nose, reached for the old-fashioned medical instrument and went to work.  
  
It hurt like a bitch. She tried to be gentle, he knew, she was very careful, but she was just sticking something into his shoulder to pull a bullet out and there was just no painless way to do it. The fact that his right shoulder hurt while his left ribcage was bruised combined to an overall hurting upper body that made him wish he would never have to move again. Oliver was just glad that she managed to grab the bullet at the first try. Afterwards, her hands were surprisingly steady when she put the thread through the tiny hole of the needle. A strange pride at how calm she was filled Oliver, but that was forgotten as soon as she started stitching his wound. Biting back a curse, he reached for the vodka bottle and took a huge swig. He had been wrong before: He did need alcoholic assistance for this.  
  
The huge gulp he took and the second one he added instantly caused Felicity to halt and look at him. “Can you still see me?”  
  
He frowned, “what?”  
  
“Just checking that the vodka doesn't cause blindness. I heard some stories while we were in Moscow, you know.”  
  
“Don't worry. I can see that you're making your 'about to hack'-face perfectly.”  
  
“No, this is my 'sewing up my boyfriend's bloody wound'-face. I always make that while I sew up my boyfriend's bloody wound.”  
  
“Those two faces look really similar.”  
  
She forced a smile. “Thank you for trying to light the mood, but this is a really difficult moment to make better.”  
  
“I know,” he whispered, “but you're doing great.” He saw her smile, but couldn't return it, because she continued pushing the needle through his skin and he had to bite his lip to keep from yelling out in pain.  
  
By the time Felicity had bandaged his shoulder Oliver was practically drenched in cold sweat. He blew some air out between his lips shakily.  
  
Felicity looked at him. “I'm sorry.”  
  
“You have nothing to apologize for.”  
  
“I hope it will be a small scar,” she said and hurried to add, “not because your scars are ugly, which they are not. But because I don't want to be responsible for another big scar. Even though,” she glanced at his shoulder, “it's right above your first scar. I'm pretty sure it won't be as big as that. I hope...”  
  
Trying to anger his right shoulder as little as possible while still aggravating his bruised ribs, Oliver brought his left arm up to place his fingers on her cheek. His thumb brushed over her skin. “It will be fine,” he said. This time it was her leaning to him, placing her lips on his. When they finally parted, Oliver smiled dimly at her. “Okay, now that we patched me up, can we please get to the important stuff and check out the gigantic computer next door?”


	15. The disappointment of an anticlimax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m a mean person. As some of you mentioned: I am really not making it easy for our favorite couple... But always keep in mind that I do love them despite everything. ;-) And I love all you wonderful people for everything you do to show me that you’re enjoy this despite all the difficulty. A big thank you to everybody who left kudos or boomkarked this story. And the biggest thank you to everybody who took the time to leave a comment. I love that so many of you were there for chapter one and are still around now that we’re actually slowly nearing the end. I love every one of your comments and I thank you whole-heartedly.

**15\. The disappointment of an anticlimax**

 

The word “computer” didn't adequately describe what they were looking at. It was a gigantic machine that reached Oliver's height. He watched as Felicity walked past it slowly, past the many metallic boxes that stood next to each other in two rows creating a passage. She stopped here and there, took a close look at the tapes that were visible behind glass; magnetic tapes as Felicity had told him. They reminded Oliver of old film spools. Involuntarily he had to think of his grandfather and the family movies he had taken with his old camera when Oliver was little. The tapes weren't moving; they were standing still behind dirty glass surrounded by buttons. Felicity now reached the boxes on the other end and stopped at a big glass window. Slowly Oliver headed toward her and saw that there, behind the dirt, were wires and little lamps.  
  
Feeling like he had ended up in a clichéd science fiction movie from the 80s, Oliver stopped next to Felicity. Never had he seen anything like that, such an old, but elaborate electronic system. All of it seemed just surreal to him, it meant nothing to him, but as Felicity now turned around to face him, he saw that it meant something to her. He couldn't help but smile at the excitement that shone in her eyes. It had been too long since he had seen her like that, since she had had a reason to be so elated and it was a wonderful sight. “So,” he smirked, “what's the verdict?”  
  
“Do you know what this is, Oliver?” She answered her own question instantly, speaking quickly. “This is the beginning of the computer age. We're standing in the middle of one of the first supercomputers. This is amazing!”  
  
“Amazing is good,” Oliver said. “I was fearing that it would be a piece of trash.”  
  
“Oh, it is a piece of trash. But it's an amazing piece of trash! Historic trash!”  
  
Oliver felt like all air was knocked out of him. “We can't use this to...”  
  
“…send an e-mail?” she asked, smiling. It was a teasing smile, full of fondness, and Oliver guessed that his question was the equivalent of Felicity asking since when there were more than six bullets in a gun. “No, Oliver, we can't,” she said softly. “It's not connected to the internet. It may look huge, but my phone has way, waaaaay more memory than this thing.” She saw the expression, the annoyance that caused his face to turn into stone, and gestured toward the box next to them. “You can kick it if you want to. Won't hurt... I mean you might hurt your foot, but the computer won't mind.”  
  
For a second he was tempted, but then he chose to rather straighten up. “Felicity, those guys up there are after you,” he reminded her, his voice hard. “They want you for something – and I will be damned if they don't want you to operate this computer here. I really don't believe they'd go through all this trouble for something that's basically a huge calculator. So, would you – _please_ – try and figure out what's going on, because you're the only one of us who can!”  
  
“Wow,” she blinked at him. “Normally, I'm the one pep-talking. But that was good, very motivational. I mean, you still have some room for improvement, maybe ease up on the annoyance a little bit next time, but...” She nodded, forcefully, “you're absolutely right.” Seeming determined, she walked back past the metal boxes, her feet still wrapped in dirty cloth that once was a towel. “I will figure this out.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “If there's enough power. I would really hate for us to end up in complete darkness again.”  
  
That wasn't an idea he liked too much either. He followed her as she walked around the last metallic box and toward the station that stood behind it and that had been the first thing he had seen when they had reached the bottom of this bunker. She studied the display. Huge, chunky buttons surrounded a small screen that reminded Oliver of a very old television. A keyboard that looked more like a typewriter was placed underneath it. Oliver moved to stand next to Felicity like he always did in the Foundry. “And?” he asked nearly instantly, because he really wasn't in the mood to be patient.  
  
“We're lucky only the medicine and the alcohol is labeled in Russian.” She pointed at the biggest button positioned in the top right corner. The word “power” was scribbled underneath it.  
  
He glanced down at her, “What are you waiting for? Press it.”  
  
Turning her head she met his eyes. Dim traces of worry were visible there and hesitation. The thought that pressing the button might leave them in the dark in the most literal sense caused her to hesitate, Oliver was certain of that. The memory of her telling him that her encounter with Slade Wilson had left her scared of the dark entered his mind. His eyes softened as he looked at her. There was still his blood on her forehead, coating her blond hair that was pulled up in a messy ponytail. She looked tired and worn out, with dirt stains on her nose and cheeks. Her blouse – that had once been a broken white with colorful dots – was covered in a mixture of bloodstains and dirt, which added more dots that really didn't improve the overall look. “If there's a coffee set down here maybe we'll find some candles,” he finally suggested.  
  
The tension left her shoulders as she heard this. “Yes,” she agreed, “great idea.”  
  
Together they walked back to the furnished rooms and searched the drawers and cupboards. They were lucky – in Oliver's opinion it was about time that some things finally worked in their favor. Candles and matches were stored in the kitchen. Two thin, yellow candles were already half-burned; they looked like rolled-up honeycombs with a wick in the middle. Somebody had dropped wax onto a saucer and stuck the candle to it, improvising a candleholder. The faint smell of honey coated the air as Oliver lit them. He glanced at Felicity who had sat down by the table and freed her feet from the filthy leftovers of the towel. She slipped her formerly red and now dirty high-heels back on and got up. “Ready?” Oliver asked.  
  
Felicity hesitated before she reached for the nearly empty vodka bottle. Throwing her head back she took a huge gulp. She swallowed while she noisily put the bottle back on the table. Oliver knew what would happen next: As the strong alcohol burned down her throat she couldn't help but cough. Her eyes watered behind her glasses and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Okay, now I'm ready.”  
  
Her heels clicked on the grey cement floor with each step she took toward the operator's station. She stopped in front of it, bent down slightly and pushed the power-button. Oliver held his breath.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
He waited for another second for something, anything to happen, and another and another. Still nothing. Noisily, he let his breath out again. He felt strangely let down by this, by this nothing, this complete silence that was going on around them.  
  
“Okay, that's very anti-climatic,” Felicity commented. Taking her eyes off the dark display, she turned to look at him and added, “that sucks.”  
  
It more than sucked, Oliver thought, that was complete bullshit! Anger started to collect in his stomach as his jaw started to clench. If that were the reason they had been brought here, somebody would most definitely pay for it! They had been abducted and dumped on a sadly not completely deserted island, they had jumped down cliffs and dodged bullets, they had been hunted and hurt, they had nearly downed and frozen – for THIS?!  
  
He turned around forcefully, away from Felicity’s searching eyes, hiding his angry stare and his features hardened by rage. On the other island he had at least had some closure, he had stopped Fyers and Slade – at least at the time he had thought he had stopped Slade –, he had accomplished something. It had been hell, but it had been good for something – even if it had only been the barest something. But there was nothing to accomplish here. There was no reason and no sense, there was just this huge piece of fucking tech-shit that was thirty years beyond being helpful and all he and Felicity had suffered had been a waste.  
  
“Oliver,” Felicity spoke up soothingly from behind him. He had turned his back to her and he knew that by saying his name she was asking him to look at her, to face her. But he couldn't. Instead, he took a few more steps away from her, keeping his back to her. He didn't want her to witness the utter despair he was feeling, didn't want her to see him breaking down like that, he didn't want her to see the immense rage that was slowly filling him. She had witnessed all of that before, he knew, she had seen him at his worst on very different occasions. She was the woman he loved, she knew him better than anyone and he knew he couldn't hide anything from her anyway, but somehow he didn't want her to see him falling apart right now. Not when she was handling everything much better than he was. “We will find another way off this island,” she assured him now.  
  
“I didn't find a way off the other island either.” His voice was quiet and harsh. “I told you. Amanda Waller got me to Hong Kong.”  
  
“Yes,” she admitted, “you told me. But you also said that this stay on an island was different-”  
  
“YES!” he yelled now and shot around to face her, “it's WORSE!” He gestured toward the metallic boxes he stood next to. “At least I knew how I got to Lian Yu and why I was there. But all of this here, it makes no sense. And now we know that there's nothing to do here anyway. We are here for a whole lot of NOTHING!”  
  
She looked at him, how he stood there, breathing heavily, his posture stiff, his face twisted by anger. She just looked at him and said, calmly, “I think we did achieve something since we've come here.”  
  
“And what's that?” he asked, pulling himself together and ignoring the pain in his shoulder and spreading from his ribs, which had intensified in the last seconds.  
  
“Us.”  
  
It was a small word, but it shut Oliver up. She softened her words with a smile. “Who knows if we had admitted certain things, if we hadn't been stuck here with nowhere to go. We talked about some things, and despite all the awful things that happened in the last weeks, we are a good thing.”  
  
Emotion was clouding his features, softening his face, his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted, “you are the best thing that could  happen to me.”  
  
A smile lit up her face. It lightened his heart and warmed him. “You're pretty awesome yourself.”  
  
“No,” he objected, “I'm a mess. You were right before. Being on an island again affects me more than I would like it to. I apologize for not handling it better.”  
  
“You're a human being, Oliver,” she walked toward him. “You're allowed to have feelings and be affected by shitty situations. And I agree that this really is a shitty situation. But we didn't die in that crappy cage we first stayed at and we will not die down here, in this bunker.”  
  
She sounded so sure that he couldn't help but smile, “because you believe in me.”  
  
“I do.” There was no doubt in her voice and it elevated him. Her voice continued to sound strong as she said, “This piece of trash won't stop us.” And then she kicked the metallic box they stood next to.  
  
Suddenly a whir filled the room that picked up in intensity until it turned into a constant buzzing. Stunned, Oliver turned and saw the magnetic tapes starting to move. Certain buttons suddenly blinked, others were steadily lit while some stayed dark. “Holy crap,” Felicity gushed and rushed toward the operator's panel. “I should have known that would work. After all that's how I always fixed my grandma's TV. Slamming it is the old-fashioned equivalent of the modern turning it off and on again.” Her eyes were fixed to the screen where orange letters were appearing. Oliver moved to stand next to her as she studied the monitor. An “oh, wow” escaped her lips and she brought her hands to the keyboard. The keys were very noisy as she pressed them with amazing speed.  
  
The commands she typed, the things that were visible on the screen meant nothing to Oliver, but he could feel a certain excitement coming from Felicity. “What?”  
  
“I was wrong before. This computer was seriously upgraded, it isn't just a too big calculator. I think I might be able to tweak some things to connect to a satellite and-” Suddenly the lights flickered. The display was the first thing that switched off, the lightened buttons followed. The buzzing stopped in the next moment as the tapes came to a halt. A groaned “noooo” left Felicity's lips just as the lights around them went out. Thank God, they had lit two handles whose flames now casted their flickering shadows against cold concrete walls and a dead supercomputer that had caused them to get their hopes up only for them to be thoroughly squashed again.


	16. Waiting for the explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I really tested your patience in the last couple of chapters, and I am hoping with everything I have that this chapter won’t be the push too many and that you won’t end up being fed up with this story. Seriously, I am very nervous how you’ll like this… To quote the amazing _Eilowyn_ : I am absolutely prepared to deal with an angry mob... Even though, I hope I won't have to. obviously. ;-) So let me just make it very short. A huge hug to all the wonderful people who commented. Thank you for all your patience; I appreciate it very, very much.

 

**16\. Waiting for the explosion**

 

Everything was better with candlelight – even sitting in a bunker, hurting and hungry, while trying to build an explosive device from things he had found in a thirty-year-old kitchen. Luckily, this thirty-year-old kitchen had stored light signals. Oliver wasn't exactly sure how much 'oomph' they still had in them, but it was worth a try. And it was better than just sitting around doing nothing. He had to feel like he was at least doing something useful, like he was trying to take charge of the situation, like he was regaining his focus. Because Oliver knew that he had lost it earlier – in every sense of the word.  
  
Oliver had never expected things, previous experiences, to come back to him like that. When they had finally accepted that the supercomputer had either burnt out all the power the generator of this bunker had left (that was Felicity’s explanation) or that the Germans had cut the power off  (that was Oliver’s best guess), they had done the only logical thing: emptied the rest of the vodka. There was very little left anyway – Felicity had been very generous when she had used it to sterilize the medical equipment. It had only been one sip for each of them and not been enough to get them drunk, but it had just felt perfectly fitting to drink to the fucked up situation.

  
Oliver knew the mercenaries could find a way to get into the bunker at any given moment. They could bring down the door and enter the hideout with raised guns, but he didn't care. Oliver had had some time to think about their situation rationally, and if the Germans wanted to storm the bunker, they would have to turn the power back on or bring lights – both would give Oliver a clear signal for their attack and something to aim at.  
  
Taking his eyes of the improvised pipe bomb that was coming together rather nicely, he looked toward the cot opposite to him where Felicity was sleeping. She didn't need the candle light to look beautiful, she just was. The flickering light cast a warm glow on her relaxed face and Oliver really enjoyed seeing her like that. She had fallen asleep in his arms, being exhausted after everything that had happened. He was utterly tired himself, but he was too stressed to sleep. The idea to close his eyes and leave them defenseless to anybody who might come down here was just impossible to him. So he had used the last hour to check on the door – which was still tightly closed – and rummage through the four rooms that adjoined the one with the useless piece of shit computer for any helpful equipment. He needed to prepare, needed to plan, because he knew that they couldn't stay holed in here forever. By now he had decided to leave this bunker with a big bang – because opening the metal door without people on the outside noticing was just impossible.  
  
Under his watchful eyes Felicity suddenly stirred. He saw her roll from her side to her back. Finally, she slowly opened her eyes and turned her head toward him. “Hey,” she whispered in a tired voice.  
  
“Hey,” he answered softly and watched Felicity turn back to her side and pop her head up on her hand.  
  
Slowly her eyes, which were very small and tired, wandered over him and the things he had spread out in front of him. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Trying to build a bomb.”  
  
Silence followed his answer and a long moment she needed to really register what he had said. When she had finally come to terms with it, she met his eyes. “You know, normally guys I spent the night with say things like: watching you sleep or making you breakfast. But I should have known not to expect something like that from you.”  
  
A certain teasing was audible in her still very tired voice, and he couldn't help but look at her challengingly. “Oh, really? And how often did that happen exactly?”  
  
Abruptly she sat up on the cot. “Forget it,” she said, “I'm not doing this with you.”  
  
He frowned, “doing what?”  
  
“Exchanging numbers. Because I don't want to know yours. I really, really don't. That would freak me out. I mean you're a guy that meets a girl on a deserted island...”  
  
His face serious he looked at her. “Only a small number of them really mattered.” Seeing the look on her face, he sighed. “But you're right. Let's not talk about this.” Because his number of girls that mattered were five. He had cared deeply about them all, they had captured spots in his heart and meant a lot to him, they had changed him. But he had only really truly loved two of them, only two girls had kept him awake at night, only two girls captivated him and his thoughts, only two girls had claimed all of his heart – and the one who had it tightly in her grip at the moment was sitting right there looking beautiful, but very tired and slightly freaked out. He decided that she was right; they should never exchange numbers, because he feared that her number of guys that had truly mattered were higher than his – and then he would end up the one being the freaked out.  
  
She gestured toward him and changed the subject, “Can I help you with your bomb building?”  
  
He was about to tell her that he wasn’t sure if that bomb would explode the way he needed it to, when a loud bang sounded from far above him.  
  
The irony was not lost on Oliver, but he really didn't appreciate it.  
  
In the next moment the lights flickered back on. Oliver reached for the gun that rested next to him and rushed to the next room. Felicity followed him instantly, staying behind him while he stopped near the door. He could see the stairs perfectly from his position, but maybe it would be better to try and get behind the computer. If the others thought is was valuable, maybe they wouldn't shoot at it as much. He reached for Felicity’s hand and pulled her along to take cover behind the old machine. Quickly, he positioned himself behind it with Felicity on his left being completely shielded by the metal box and pointed his gun at the stairs. Whoever would come down the steps first would be the first one to die.  
  
“Oliver Queen, drop your weapon.” The shout rang down the stairs and caused Oliver to grip his gun tighter. He felt Felicity still next him while the need to curse rushed through him.  
  
“You were right,” Felicity whispered.  
  
Part of him wished he wasn't. His voice was hard as he shouted back. “What are you doing here, Amanda?”  
  
“Apparently, I am saving you from twenty angry Germans.”  
  
“I don't think it counts as saving if you're the one responsible that we’re here IN THE FIRST PLACE!” It wasn't exactly a wild guess, it was a very strong suspicion.  
  
“Guilty,” Amanda Waller sounded entirely unaffected. The uncaring, slightly pleased tone in her voice pissed him off even more. “But we have something to discuss, so I'd like to come down without being shot, because in that case my men would have to shoot back.” Now he could practically hear her grinning as she said, “I'm your ticket off the island, Oliver. Again.”  
  
“Fine.” It was less an actual word and more a sound pressed through gritted teeth. He lowered his gun, but held on to it. Not taking his eyes off the stairs where now the first army boot became visible and a machine gun yielding soldier with it, he stretched his left hand out. Felicity took it instantly, and he squeezed for silent support.  
  
Together they stepped around the computer just as Amanda Waller came into view. Tall, beautiful and impeccably styled as always, she placed a black high heel onto the cement floor. Her men fanned out across the room. There were no members of the suicide squad present, Oliver knew, because every soldier wore a ski mask. A.R.G.U.S.' soldiers valued their anonymity, a privilege squad-members didn't have. Oliver kept his eyes on Waller. “Took you long enough to come get us.”  
  
“Took you longer than expected to find this place,” Amanda shot back.  
  
“Sorry, we were a little busy getting shot at.”  
  
“That was rather unexpected, yes. I didn’t know you had company.”  
  
Oliver had enough. “What the fuck, Amanda! What do you think you're doing here?” Anger was leaking from his every pore. He wasn't afraid of Amanda Waller, never had been, but he had experienced what she was capable of. It was stupid to underestimate her. Amanda knew where to apply pressure, and Oliver knew that his own pressure point was standing right next to him.  
  
“I needed to find this place and I sent the two people who were best to get the job done.” She didn't care about his anger. Her voice made that absolutely clear. However he felt about what she was doing here, it didn't rattle her in the slightest. She was all self-assured business as she added, glancing at Felicity shortly, “I needed Miss Smoak,” before placing her attention on Oliver again, “I need her to operate the system and I knew you preferred accompanying her during her search.” She raised an amused eyebrow, “Or would you have liked her being here on her own?”  
  
Oliver was about to tell Amanda Waller what exactly he thought of her while using many expletives, when Felicity spoke up first. “Why do you need me to operate the system? I'm sure you have enough hackers hired.”  
  
“I have,” the tall woman in the black business suit admitted, “but I need somebody better, somebody who managed to hack the NSA in the age for fourteen.”  
  
“Thirteen,” Felicity corrected, before she blinked stupidly. “or more like _never_ , because I have no idea what you're talking about.”  
  
All Oliver could do in reaction to that was take a deep breath, because – seriously!  
  
“I did my homework on you, Miss Smoak. After you recognized the XK-15 processor I was intrigued. After all, as you so rightfully said, that's not even supposed to exist yet – or be known to the general public. But you're not the general public, are you, Barbie Girl?”  
  
Felicity swallowed heavily, and Oliver thought that was a good moment to stop it right here. Letting go of Felicity's hand he took a step forward. There were many things he could say. Things like: What on earth makes you think you have the right to treat people like that? Or: You really have an unhealthy god-complex. Or: You are a heartless cold bitch. But Oliver knew Amanda Waller well enough to not even bother. None of that would have any impact; it would just bounce off her shell of non-caring. So, instead he asked, “Why didn't you just ask us to go and find this supercomputer for you? Some preparation would have made things a little easier.”  
  
Lips, perfectly colored in red, curved into a condescending smile. “You should know that I never bother to ask questions I know I will get a negative answer to. And you should know that I always get people to do what I want them to do.”  
  
“So, what do you want me to do?” Oliver asked.  
  
The smile was still there and turned even more amused now. “You?” She raised an eyebrow at Oliver. “You already did what I wanted you to do. You kept her alive and brought her here. I was worried for a second when the GPS in the tablet died and we couldn't track you anymore, but the power surge when you turned on the computer gave your location away perfectly...”  
  
“Fine,” Felicity said now. She started to sound angry herself. “What do you want me to do with this old piece of trash computer?”  
  
“Miss Smoak, we both know that this isn't the piece of trash it looks like. It was placed here by Russians in the late sixties, but it was found and upgraded by Chinese operatives about ten years ago, who then did nothing with it, because Chen Shui-ban was elected. The idiot thought the machine had no value, when it's the perfect computer for hacking, because it's powerful but operating with programs that are too old to be recognized as a threat by most modern systems. It took me years to gather information and separate fact from myth to narrow its location down to this island, so please do me a favor and don't try to make either of us look stupid.”  
  
“It's not connected to the internet.”  
  
Waller’s smile stayed in place, perfect and unwavering. A smile shouldn't raise so many negative feelings inside Oliver, this one still did. Amanda Waller didn't take her eyes of Felicity. “I'm sure you'll figure something out.”  
  
“To do what exactly? Because you still haven't told me.”  
  
“I need you to find _Oracle_ and reveal her identity.”  
  
This sentence made absolutely no sense to Oliver. Oh, he understood the words, but they held no meaning. But it meant something to Felicity, the stiffening of her posture told him that very clearly – and by the way the dreadful smile deepened he knew that Amanda Waller had also noticed. Felicity's voice sounded strangely forced in Oliver's ears as she said, “ _Oracle_ ’s nothing but a myth.”  
  
“That's what people say about the _League of Assassins_. And look at how your last months went...” Amanda Waller crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Felicity challengingly. “Are you really planning to make this difficult for me?”  
  
Oliver knew that tone. He had heard that tone very often himself and he knew that it announced impending doom. Placing his attention pointedly on the A.R.G.U.S.-boss and away from the soldiers, he was about to say something, when Felicity straightened up and said, “No, Miss Waller – or is it Mrs.? Whatever... Just… Let me make this very easy for you. I won't do it.”  
  
“Oh, really?”  
  
“Really!”  
  
The smile vanished in the blink of an eye. Her voice cutting like a knife Amanda Waller said, “Then let me make it very clear for you: I always get what I want. And I want you to find _Oracle_.” Suddenly, she waved her hand through the air and instantly a soldier pressed the trigger, his gun aimed at Oliver.  
  
The moment the bullet entered Oliver's thigh his leg gave way. He crashed to the ground with a grunt as a soft cry left Felicity's lips. He had been in pain before with his bruised ribs and his shot-up shoulder, but this was different. This wasn't just painful; this was serious. The soldier had hit the huge artery in his leg and he was bleeding like crazy. Blood collected around him and Felicity sank on her knees to the floor next to him, pressing on the wound. Her eyes found his and he could see she understood instantly. He felt warped back to the night he had hidden in her car, when he had known that he needed her help or he would die.  
  
Back then he hadn't bled that heavily.  
  
Felicity faced Waller as she pressed down on his wound with her bare hands. “Why did you do this?”  
  
“To make a point! This is not a discussion or a negotiation. This is I telling you what to do and you doing it.”  
  
Disbelieve collected on Felicity's face. “I heard about Hong Kong, but I couldn't believe it.”  
  
“Believe this, Miss Smoak,” Waller took a step toward them, “if you don't get to work and find _Oracle_ for me I won't call or my medic who's waiting upstairs to treat Oliver.”  
  
“Okay,” Felicity rushed out, “I'll try to find her for you, but get that medic down here.”  
  
“I don't want you to try, I want you to do it.”  
  
“Felicity...” Oliver whispered, trying to get her attention.  
  
But she ignored him and kept her attention on the other woman. There was an anger in Felicity Smoak's voice he had never heard before as she said, “Fine, I will do it, but get that damn medic here, NOW!”  
  
“I will get the medic when you've found her.”  
  
“Felicity-” Oliver tried again. He needed Felicity to stop negotiating with this woman, because he knew that it was no use. Amanda Waller had labeled Oliver Queen dispensable – and she had disposed of him. Nothing that Felicity said or did would change that. Oliver was a dead man that was simply still breathing.  
  
The eyes of the woman he loved more than anything snapped to his – and what he saw there stunned him. Never had he seen her like that, with such a fire and determination in her eyes. “Press on the wound, Oliver!” It was her no-nonsense voice and on autopilot he followed her order. Collecting the strength that hadn't yet seeped out of him, he pressed down on his leg, willing to keep the blood in, even though he knew there was little hope left.  
  
He didn't want to die down here, bleed to death in this cement cellar, not when he had finally dared to accept that he could have a future that might be neither easy nor perfect, but that would still be filled with love. He wanted that future, he wanted to love Felicity Smoak with all he had and he wanted to be loved by her. He wasn't ready to give up yet.  
  
Laying on the floor he watched Felicity straighten up, get to her feet and turn toward Amanda Waller. “No.”  
  
That caused the other woman to do a double take. “No?” She obviously couldn't believe it.  
  
“NO!” Felicity repeated and took an angry step toward the A.R.G.U.S.-boss. “You will get the medic down here, right NOW!” Felicity was yelling. Never had Oliver heard her yell like that before. He was so stunned that he nearly released his tight grip on the wound. “It will take some time to get a satellite connection going. By the time I've managed that Oliver will be dead.” Her voice was hard, but collected. She was calmly stating a fact. “He's loosing too much blood, he doesn't have much time left and I will never be able to trace the most legendary hacker ever in the next five minutes. So, if you want me to uncover another person's identity to you, a cruel psychopath with no empathy or even basic compassion, you will have to go and save him, because if he dies, I will do NOTHING for you, understood?! And, yes, you can go and shoot me, too. I don't care.”  
  
Never had Oliver Queen loved Felicity Smoak more than in that exact moment.  
  
His eyes were glued to his wonderful girl, how she stood there in muddy red high-heels and filthy clothes, her blond hair still a messy bedhead, her hands soaked in his blood, her breathing heavy while she stood up to Amanda Waller – a woman she herself had labeled “intimating” – and told that exact woman, who wasn't taking objection well, “no” without care or hesitation. Felicity was like iron right then, very rational about his chances of survival while still fighting for him.  
  
A moment of silence followed. It was one of those heavy moments in which different potential futures were weighed against each other. In one of these futures Oliver Queen would die on an island with a crying Felicity Smoak by his side.  But not in this one. “I have underestimated you, Miss Smoak.”  
  
That was the biggest compliment you could get from Amanda Waller, ever.  
  
With a short and simple nod she adjudicated upon Oliver's fate and signaled to the exact soldier who had previously shot Oliver to call a medic. He did so immediately by speaking into the headset connected to an earpiece.  
  
Not saying another word – not even thanking her, which was very much against the basic forms of politeness that she normally granted everyone – Felicity sank down next to Oliver. Now her hands trembled as she brought them to his and added more pressure to his wound. He heard heavy footsteps coming from far above him, but he ignored them, as all he could see was Felicity who now whispered, “I think that's a zone one.”  
  
A small smile danced around his lips. His eyes caught hers and he said, “I love you.”  
  
Hearing this, Felicity shook her head, forcefully. The movement was enough to cause the tears that had been collecting in her eyes to fall. “No,” she objected, her voice suddenly hoarse and breaking, “no last words. We don't need them.”  
  
The footsteps got closer. Oliver noticed a medic running toward him, followed by two soldiers. Oliver was slipping away, he could feel the blood loss catch up with him, but he would recognize those two anywhere. Relief flooded him, because he knew: Felicity was safe.  
  
The medic was setting down his bag and getting to his knees next to Oliver, when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a fistfight mixing with Amanda's angry voice. He was still looking at Felicity, who now swallowed heavily and said, “And I love you.” It was the last thing he heard, before darkness welcomed him.


	17. Dead man still breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it, guys. Finally, the last chapter. I know some of you might not agree, but I think it’s time to wrap this up. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it and reading your awesome comments. Thanks to everybody who pressed the kudos-button. All your support throughout those last few weeks was just amazing and I cannot thank you enough. 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL! Much love, Jules

 

**17\. A dead man still breathing**

 

Awareness came slowly. Bit by bit he was pulled out of the blackness, out of unconsciousness and back to the here and now. And right here, right now he was laying somewhere rather uncomfortable, but there was a pillow under his head and a blanket draped over him. He had most definitely woken up in worse situations. He took a moment to do a mental inventory and came to the pleasing conclusion that not only was he still alive, but also that all of his limbs were still attached to his body. His eyelids seemed strangely heavy, but he forced them to open.  
  
John Diggle greeted him with a smile. “I guess you didn't die again. Cool, huh?”  
  
That sentence would forever haunt him.  
  
Oliver felt too groggy to come up with a good comeback. Forcing his tongue to move needed much effort and he didn't want to waste it. He used it for the most important question. “Where's Felicity?”  
  
“Back with Waller, trying to convince her that she isn’t a legendary hacker – at least not the legendary hacker Waller’s believing her to be.” Seeing all the unspoken questions in his best friend's face, John added, “Roy's with her, don't worry. We’ve got it all under control; she’s safe.” Slowly, Oliver nodded and then he swallowed. Interpreting his action correctly, Diggle reached for a water bottle. “Here, let me help you.” He steadied Oliver's back who winced at the movement. His shoulder, his ribs, his leg – everything hurt horribly. Oliver was glad when he could lie back down. He felt like he should get up, get next door and see for himself that Felicity was okay, but he knew that no matter how much he wished, he couldn't do that  
  
“I'm sorry, man.” John said now, “We were so late, but taking out A.R.G.U.S' men was more difficult than we had anticipated.”  
  
“How did you find us?”  
  
“After you and Felicity went missing and were nowhere to be found I contacted A.R.G.U.S. for help, but they told me you were both on assignment. Lyla tried to find out more and came up empty handed. All of it seemed very fishy to us. In the end Lyla managed to get us at least the location of this island. But when Roy and I arrived here, Waller had already lost you and she didn’t want us to go out and search for you, so she locked us up. Thank God, Lyla got worried and sent Deadshot after us, who not only got his headbomb disarmed, but apparently also a huge dose of her pregnancy hormones…” He sighed. “I'm sorry it took us so long.”  
  
“Well, it's been three eventful weeks.”  
  
“Four,” John corrected and clarified, “you've been missing four weeks.”  
  
“I don't want Felicity around Amanda.”  
  
John Diggle smiled, “don't worry, Oliver. Felicity can handle Amanda.” He leaned a little closer to the man laying on the cot and whispered, “Amanda believed Felicity to be a hacker called _Oracle_ , but as far as I understood this _Oracle_ knows about the supercomputer out there, which was why Amanda dumped you two here. She was sure Felicity would go directly to the bunker and seek help and shelter here.” Sighing Diggle leaned back in his chair, “If you ask me that whole plan is all kinds of crazy. But it’s not as bad as trying to force Felicity to reveal her secret identity by shooting you.”  
  
Oliver looked at Diggle. That was all a bit much to take in – and much to consider. Was it even possible that Felicity wa-  
  
“I asked her,” John Diggle had always been worryingly good at reading Oliver’s mind, “and she in return asked me how she should’ve kept up a secret hacker persona when she was basically working two jobs last year, being your EA by day and personal researcher by night? I thought that was a good point.”  
  
It was. But Oliver was still sure that Felicity knew something about this _Oracle_. Not that it mattered to Oliver right now. All he really wanted was to see her and make sure that she was really okay and then he wanted to leave the horrible island.  
  
“As soon as we can move you, we’re heading home.”  
  
Hearing Diggle’s statement, indescribable relief pushed through Oliver. He closed his eyes in an effort to keep the emotions inside. He felt a hand squeezing his lower arm and opened his eyes again to meet the knowing glance of the person he had first trusted with his ultimate secret. “I know, man,” John Diggle said now, “can't imagine what the last month was like for you.”  
  
Oliver nodded, before he dared a smile, “It did have its upsides.”  
  
Now Diggle smirked, too. “I figured. I promised to get Felicity once you woke up.” Adding another comforting pad on his arm, his friend got up.  
  
Not even a minute later, Felicity rushed into the room. He tried to lift his upper body, but it hurt so badly that he fell back to the cot he was resting on. “Hi,” she said softly and sank down on the chair Diggle had previously occupied. “Never do that again!” She touched her lips to his, carefully, as if afraid she would hurt him.  
  
“I promise to try to avoid that in the future,” he whispered.  
  
“Please do.” She cradled his hand in hers. “I’m just glad that you’re okay. And that nobody got hurt. When John and Roy arrived things got really tense. Guns pointing everywhere. That could’ve gone really wrong. And apparently Floyd Lawton’s escaped – that didn’t help to improve Ms. Waller’s mood, which was already pretty low, because those Germans apparently managed to outsmart A.R.G.U.S.’ sensors. Sensory issues, if that isn’t a code name for inside job I don’t know what is…” She noticed Oliver smiling at her and caught herself, “Sorry, I’m just really relieved that you’re okay and...” She smiled the most wonderful honest smile. “Oliver, we're going home.”

 

*******

 

Going home took a twelve-hour flight. It were twelve hours Oliver spent looking at Felicity while she slept. That actually wasn't the worst way to spend half a day.  
  
She was able to stretch out in this private A.R.G.U.S. plane that was all champagne-colored leather and constantly smiling stewardesses. Roy and Diggle also caught a few hours of sleep, but Oliver couldn’t close his eyes. Too many things were on his mind – plus now that the medication had worn off he was in constant pain, his leg was throbbing like crazy and the ache was too there for him to tune it out. Felicity had been right when she had said that maybe they should give him another day to rest, but the idea of staying on this god-forsaken island only one moment longer seemed utterly wrong to Oliver. He wanted to go back home, he wanted Felicity to go back home, to end this horrible episode.  
  
There were some things he had decided he needed to do once he was back home. Apart from giving his leg time to heal as he had promised Felicity. He needed to get a new lair and make sure that Amanda Waller couldn't find out. Felicity had already said that she needed to upgrade the computers and the firewall now that A.R.G.U.S. had taken possession of the supercomputer.  
  
Amanda wasn't pleased how this operation had gone down, Oliver knew that. The whole confrontation in that bunker had been a mess, and Waller most definitely hadn't gotten what she had wanted to gain. All she had gotten was the knowledge that information A.R.G.U.S. had obtained and considered highly classified had somehow ended up in the hands of some low-life mercenaries. The only logical conclusion for the Germans showing up on that island knowing that Oliver and Felicity were there to look for a supercomputer was a mole within A.R.G.U.S. That had to freak Waller out. It was the only explanation why those guys had been able to hide their presence so completely. And that was the only explanation why Waller hadn’t pressured Felicity more into giving up _Oracle_ or getting her more information on the super hacker. They were lucky that Waller had bigger problems right now. Plus: She most likely considered herself doing them a favor – and Amanda was a person to always collect. So, a new lair, a better hideout with secure technology was a very important thing he needed to take care of once he was on his feet again.  
  
The last month seemed surreal – even for him, a guy who had experienced more surrealism become twisted reality than any given person should. Still, being on the island had been like being in a parallel universe.  
  
As he watched Felicity sleep so peacefully something she had said to him down in the bunker popped up in his head. Back then he hadn't really thought about it, because he had been too aggravated, but now it repeated itself over and over in his head: “Who knows if we had admitted certain things, if we hadn't been stuck here with nowhere to go.”  
  
Oliver knew. He knew that he wouldn't have admitted anything if they hadn't ended up on that island.  
  
But now that he had, he wasn't willing to take it back. He would turn his second stay on an island into something positive, he wouldn't give up on her. Because when he had thought he would bleed out on the cement floor under ground, he hadn't mourned his death, he had mourned the life he never had, the future he would never have with Felicity.  
  
He had so many regrets in his life, he had made so many wrong decision, but admitting his love to Felicity wasn't one of them. There was no way that he would turn her into another regret. This here was his second chance and he would take it.  
  
Felicity slept until it was time to land. Oliver woke her up with a kiss and ignored the glance he knew John and Roy shared behind his back. The sun was about to set when they finally set down in Starling City. Getting down the gangway with his leg was more painful than he liked to admit. He had made it down and took a steadying breath when Felicity moved next to him. She seemed uncharacteristically shy as she said, “I think you should stay with me until your leg is better. You will never manage to get down the stairs to the Foundry.”  
  
Her suggestion made him happy. “I’d like that,” he admitted, “but can we stop by the Foundry? I'd like to get some clean clothes.”  
  
A happy smile was his reward. “Sure.”  
  
It took them one hour until they finally reached Felicity’s townhouse. As soon as Oliver entered it, he felt at home. It was cozy; it felt like a warm, a peaceful place to be. It was different from Queen mansion in every way it could be and he meant that in the most positive way possible. Color greeted him as he had expected. He sank down on the couch and couldn't believe that he felt instantly relaxed. Felicity stood by the door and watched him with a smile on her face. “Please, make yourself at home.”  
  
He felt caught. “I apologize, I-”  
  
“No,” she interrupted. “I really mean it: make yourself at home. I want to take a shower, get the island off me. That might take some time, because I want to make myself pretty for you.”  
  
“Felicity,” he looked at her, “you’re always pretty.”  
  
“You say that with a straight face after you spent one month with me on an island?” There was amusement in her voice, as if she didn't take him seriously.  
  
But he was serious. It was visible on his face and audible in his voice as he said, “You are very beautiful. Always.”  
  
She blushed. It was an unfamiliar sight that caused Oliver to smile. Felicity hesitated for a moment before she took a step closer to him. “I was really worried that this would be a 'what happens on the island stays on the island'-situation.”  
  
Carefully, he looked at her, “You feared that I'd back out and take it back?”  
  
Slowly, she nodded. “Yes, I'm glad that you didn't try to.”  
  
“Try to?” he repeated, amused.  
  
“I wouldn't have let you, because I have a say in this, too. And... I know on that island we were more open with each other than we normally are, but I meant everything I said.”  
  
“I did, too.” He saw her smile and gestured for her to come to him, because he honestly couldn't get up from his couch and on his leg. “And I think we should try and be more open from now on. I think after we managed to get through the last month we'll get through anything.”  
  
She smirked. “That's probably true.” She leaned down and kissed him.  
  
When their lips parted again, he brought his hand up to her cheek and made her stay close to him. “You are the best thing that happened to me, Felicity. And I know we don't exchange numbers, but I want you to know that you are the one for me.”  
  
Happiness shone in her eyes, ultimate joy. Seeing that made his heart dance. She needed a moment to collect herself, before she said, “So, we'll be more open with each other off the island now, too?” She nodded, “I have to tell you: That works for me.”  
  
He chuckled. “That's good to know.” They kissed again.  
  
Now it was Felicity staying close and whispering. “Oliver, on the island you said that you wanted to be better for me, but you don't have to be. You can't be. You can only be yourself and that's perfect, because that's the man I love.” She kissed him again, sent him a smile full of love and then she straightened up. “Okay, and now I'll take a shower.”  
  
Oliver stopped her after two steps. “I know it wasn't in your top two return food, but how do you feel about me ordering pizza?”  
  
“Perfect, do that. No onions and, please, no fish! I don't think I'll ever be able to enjoy fish again!”  
  
He chuckled and watched as she left the room. He knew that the last month would catch up with them, with her. Once the comatose sleep caused by extreme exhaustion was done with the nightmares would start. It had been like that for Oliver after he had returned home the first time. He expected them again – for himself and for Felicity. They still hadn't discussed the fact that she had aimed a gun at a guy and had shot him – in the leg, just like Oliver had been shot in the leg. Oliver was pretty sure that she hadn't realized that yet, but he knew that she would, it would be a painful realization. The aftermath of what they had gone through was still ahead of them. It wouldn't be as bad as last time, it hadn't been five hellish years after all, but one month in Hell was enough to leave some marks – and two fresh scars on Oliver. But he knew that they would work through it together. Later, probably already later tonight, he was ready to deal with that, to take her fears away and help her through anything. But for now he would order pizza and cuddle with her on her couch, he would enjoy a peaceful evening with his girlfriend, he would dare to just be relaxed and happy tonight.  
  
Because he was home.  
  
  
  
 **The End**

 


End file.
